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23  WIST  MAIN  STRHT 

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CIHM/ICMH 

Microfiche 

Series. 


CIHIVI/ICMH 
Collection  de 
microfiches. 


Canadian  Inttituta  for  Historical  Microraproductions  /  Inttitut  Canadian  da  microraproductions  historiquas 


Technical  and  Bibliographic  Notes/Notes  techniques  et  bibilographlques 


The  Institute  has  attempted  to  obtain  the  best 
original  copy  available  for  filming.  Features  of  this 
copy  which  may  be  bibliographically  unique, 
which  may  alter  any  of  the  images  in  the 
reproduction,  or  which  may  significantly  change 
the  usual  method  of  filming,  are  checked  below. 


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Couverture  de  couleur 


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□    Covers  restored  and/or  laminated/ 
Couverture  restaur6e  et/ou  peliicuMe 


I      I    Cover  title  missing/ 


Le  titre  de  couverture  manque 

Coloured  maps/ 

Cartes  g^ographiques  en  couleur 

Coloured  ink  (i.e.  other  than  blue  or  black)/ 
Encre  de  couleur  (i.e.  autre  que  bieue  ou  noire) 


I      I   Coloured  plates  and/or  illustrations/ 


Planches  et/ou  Illustrations  en  couleur 

Bound  with  other  material/ 
RellA  avec  d'autres  documents 

Tight  binding  may  cause  shadows  or  distortion 
along  Interior  margin/ 

La  re  iiure  serrde  peut  causer  de  I'ombre  ou  de  la 
distortion  le  long  de  la  marge  Int^rieure 

Blank  leaves  added  during  restoration  may 
appear  within  the  text.  Whenever  possible,  these 
have  been  omitted  from  filming/ 
II  se  peut  que  certaines  pages  blanches  ajoutdes 
lors  d'une  restauration  apparaissent  dans  le  texte. 
mais,  lorsque  ceia  Atait  possible,  ces  pages  n'ont 
pas  6t6  filmtes. 


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□   Coloured  pages/ 
Pages  de  couleur 


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Pages  endommagdes 

Pages  restored  and/or  laminated/ 
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Pages  discoloured,  stained  or  foxed/ 
Pages  dteolortes,  tachet6es  ou  piquAes 

Pages  detached/ 
Pages  d^tach^es 

Showthrough/ 
Transparence 

Quality  of  print  varies/ 
Qualit6  in^gale  de  I'impression 

Includes  supplementary  material/ 
Comprend  du  materiel  suppl^mentaire 

Only  edition  available/ 
Seule  Mition  disponible 

Pages  wholly  or  partially  obscured  by  errata 
slips,  tissues,  etc.,  have  been  refilmed  to 
ensure  the  best  possible  image/ 
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obscurcies  par  un  feulllet  d'errata,  une  peiure, 
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obtenir  la  meilleure  Image  possible. 


0 


Additional  comments:/ 
Commentaires  supplimentaires; 


Irregular  pagination:   [ii]  -  xlvi,  [11]  -  366  p. 


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University  of  Windsor 


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posaibia  considaring  tha  condition  and  iagibiiity 
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L'axemplaira  film*  fut  reproduit  grAce  A  la 
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University  of  Windsor 


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FlUNK     I'ORESTER'S 


FIELD     8  POETS 


OP  Tro: 


UNITED    STATES 


AND 


BRITISn    PROVINCES    OF    NORTH    AMERICA. 


BY 


t£K]srRY  avilliam:  hkrbkrt, 

AlTTUOa  OP  KKANK  FORESTER'S  "FlSIt  \Sl>  FlSIII.yn,"   "HORSE  AND  UOKSaaANSim' "   "TUB  (JO- 
PUSTK  MAN-tr.VL  POl:  YOUNO  SPORTSMEN,"   UrO. 


Thorp  ts  rxTiIInrnticm  tn  tho  rh.nsp— 
N(jt  hoilily  only.     *    *    ♦    *     * 

It  )s  a  rufnu'lod  rnptiiri'.  nnd  wo  find 
Tho  bodily  spirit  mountinjr  to  tlio  minfl. 

Sir  Kukrtox  Brtdoes. 


NEW  KDITION,  CONTAININO  NnfEROTTS  COnr.KCTIOVS  AWD  ABDITIONB 

WITH  ILLUSTRATIONS  FliOM  NATURE,  AND  A  BEIEF 

MEMOIR  OF  THE  AUTHOR. 


IN    TWO    VOLUMES, 
VOL.  I. 


NEW    YORK: 
PUBLISHED  BY  W.   A.   TOWNSEND  &  ADAMS, 

18U8. 


SK 
Mi 

rH55 


Entered  accutdiiig  to  en  Act  of  Cor     .ss,  In  the  year  1848, 

BV    STRINGER    AND    TOWNSEND. 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  for  the  Southern  District  of  New-York 


C.  A.  ALVOUD,  Pbinikr. 
No.  15  Vandewatcr  Stri'tt,  N.  ^ 


To 


coi^ONiar.  WADK  Hampton, 


OF  "THE  WOODLANDS,"  SOUTH  OAROUNA, 


THIS     WORK     ON     THE 


ffitlb     Sports    of    tlje    EnileJr    ^trttes, 


BRITISH  PEOVmCES  OF  NO?Tif  AMERICA, 


18 


VERV  RE8PECTPPLLY  DEUICATED,  AS  A  TRIBUTE  OP  HOMAOB    TO  TU» 


FIRST  SPORTSMAN   IN  THE   LAND 


BY  fits  OBD't  servant, 


FRANK    FORESTER. 


420,99 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 


®f  Volume  <Dne 


\1 


PORTRAIT  OF  THE  AUTUOR, Frontispifxe, 

Rocky  Mountain  Sheep  and  Ho ats 32 

Canada  Grouse 70 

American  Snipe 91 

Green  and  Blue-Winged  Teal 119 

Snipe  Shooting             . 137 

American  Woodcock 169 

Ruffed  Grouse            . 24S 

American  Quail .        .  263 


CONTENTS  OF  VOLUME  ONE. 


1 


MEMOIR  OF  THE  AUTHOR, pp.  xi-xlvi 

Introductory  Observations  ■         ■        •       .         11 

The  Game  of  North  America  80 

Upland  Shootino  of   the    Northehn    States    and    British 

Provinces 4.') 

The  Pinnated  Grouse  41) 

The  RufiFed  Grouse ,54 

The  Canada  Grouse      •■■••...  71 

American  Quail j^D 

The  Woodcock g,- 

Common  Snipe 91 

Bartrara's  Taller (^^ 

The  American  Hare jqo 

The  Northern  Hare jqj^ 

The  Mallard  10,5 

The  Dusky  Duck 110 

The  Blue-Winged  Teal  nj 

The  Green-Winged  Teal i^c) 

The  Wood  Duck— Summer  Duck j22 

The  Pintail  Duck ^  9g 

Upland  Shooting  of  the  Eastern  and  Middle  States  and  of 

THE  British  Provinces    ....  10,. 

Spring  Snipe  Shooting jgy 

Summer  Woodcock  Shooting ,  jqq 

Upland  Plover  Shooting 201 

Autumn  Cock  Shooting £09 


1 


VIU 


CONTENTS. 


Quail  Shooting 
Ruffed  Orouso  Sliooling 
Qrouso  Shooting    . 
Autumn  Siiooting 
Rail ;  nnd  lltiil  Shooting 
Rail  Shooting    .... 
Duck  Siiooting  on  Inlimtl  Waters 
SpoRTiivr,  DooH        .... 
The  Setter      .... 
The  Pointer      .... 
Tlie  Cocking  Spaniel 
Kennel  Management 
Field  Management  of  Dogs 


210 
240 
248 
263 
274 
203 
29J» 

318 
819 
884 
888 
841 
800 


r  i 


ADVERTISEMENT 


TO    THE    EIGHTII    EDITION. 


1  HAVE  little  to  say  intho  Preface  to  the  eighth  edition  of  the 
following  work  on  Fiold  Sports,  first  issued  in  1849  ;  my  reasons 
for  producing  it,  at  this  moment,  will  be  found  in  the  body  of  the 
book  itself ;  but,  once  for  all,  it  appeared  to  me  that  such  a  work 
was  needed,  at  this  juncture,  and  that  its  publication  might  pos- 
sibly tend,  in  some  small  degree,  to  avert  the  impending  doom 
which  seems  to  have  gone  forth  from  the  democracy  of  the  land 
against  game  of  all  sorts. 

No  one  abler,  or  elder,  seemed  willing  to  stand  forth  ;  so 
"  with  all  my  imperfections  on  my  head,"  I  have  ventured  my- 
self as  the  champion  of  American  Sport  and  Sportsmanship; 
and — "  what  is  writ  is  writ,  would  it  were  worthier  !" 

1  have  here,  especially  and  before  aught  else,  to  express  my 
obligations  for  what  I  have  borrowed— the  generic  distinctiona 
namely,  and  descriptions  of  the  form,  measurement,  and  plumage, 
of  all  the  winged  game  of  the  Continent — from  those  distin- 
guished ornithologists  and  good  sportsmen,  Mr.  Audubon  and 
Mr.  GiRAUD,to  whose  "  Birds  of  America,''  and  "  Birds  of  Long 
Island,"  I  am  greatly  indebted.  I  have  not  scrupled,  moreover, 
to  quote  largely,  on  occasion,  from  Wilson's  "  American  Orni- 
thology," De  Kay's  "  Natural  History  of  New  York,"  and 
Godman's  "  American  Natural  History," — and  to  all  these 
gentlemen  I  beg  to  express  the  high  sense  I  feel,  of  the  aid  I  have 


ADVERTISEMENT. 


f 


i'i 

1i   M 


rr 


derived  from  their  oxcollcnt.  works.  To  my  friend,  William 
T.  Porter,  I  need  not  apologise  for  the  two  or  three  pages  I  have 
borrowed  from  his  admirable  edition  of  "  Kawkcr  on  Shooting," 
as  he  would  pardon,  doubtless,  a  heavier  oflfr nee  to  a  fellow  work- 
er in  the  same  honorable  field  with  himself. 

For  the  illustrations  designed  by  myself,  from  living  or  stuffed 
specimens,  I  am  greatly  iudcbted  to  Mr.  Bfll,  the  eminent 
taxidermi.:>t  and  naturalist,  who  kindly  laid  open  his  cabinet  for 
my  use. 

Since  issuing  my  first  edition,  many  criticisms—  some  very  cor- 
rect and  courteous,  others  just  as  incorrect,  uncandid,  and  ungen- 
tlemanly — have  led  me  to  review  some  of  my  opinions  ;  and  those 
which  are  found  incorrect,  will  be  found  entirely  altered  and  re- 
written. This  is  the  case  with  the  article  on  the  Pinnated 
Grouse,  concerning  which  I  have  obtained  much  valuable  infor- 
mation from  an  eminent  Western  sportsman,  which  will  be  found 
embodied  in  this  edition. 

A  tour  to  the  North-West  and  the  Great  Lakes  has  enabled  me 
to  give  some  farther  information  regarding  that  very  interesting 
region  ;  and  much  commuuion  during  this  spring  with  a  very  well 
„uown  Prairie  and  Rocky  Mountain  Hunter,  Mr.  T.  M.  Adams, 
of  Independence,  Missouri,  has  confirmed  me  in  some  of  my 
views,  and  enabled  me  to  correct  errors  in  others  in  relation  to 
the  Wild  Sports  of  tha  West. 

This  said,  nothing  remains  but  to  express  my  hope,  that  my 
labors  may  be  not  wholly  vain,  and  that  my  doctrines  may  meet 
the  favorable  censure  of  those,  for  whose  use  they  are  intended — 
THE  Sportsmen  of  America. 

HENRY  WILLIAM   HERBERT. 


The  above  preface  is  the  latest  prepared  by  Mr.  Herbert,  while  antici- 
pating the  pleasure  of  is.suing  this  revised  edition,  shortly  prior  to  his  sudduii 
decease.  The  index  also,  has  been  carefully  adapted  to  the  numerous  addi- 
tions in  the  work,  and  is  now  believed  to  be  both  accurate  and  complete. 


/  'i 


A  FEW  MEMOIRS 

OF 


HENRY  WILLIAM  HERBERT, 


BETTER  AND  MORE  FAMILIARLY  KMOWX  AS 


4  ( 


FRANK    FORESTER." 


The  web  of  our  life  is  of  a  mingled  ynrn,  good  and  111  toftether :  our  virtues  would 
be  proud  If  our  faults  whipped  them  not,  and  our  crimes  would  despair  if  they  were  nut 
cherished  by  our  vlrtucE."— Shakespeakb. 


[The  publisher  intended  to  have  availed  himself  of  the  pleasing  pen  of 
one  of  Mr.  Herbert's  most  intimate  n.ad  most  esteemed  friends,  the  late 
William  T.  Porter,  Esq.,  the  popular  editor  of  the  "  Spirit  of  the  Times,"  as 
the  best  qualified  and  most  suitable  biographer  of  the  departed  "Frank 
Forester."  Mr.  Porter,  however,  being  in  feeble  health,  the  following 
sketch  was  prepared  by  a  mutual  friend  of  all  the  parties,  with  the  inten- 
tion of  obtaining  Mr.  Porter's  approval  as  a  prefix.  In  the  mean  time,  a 
verification  occurred  of  the  solemn  proverb,  "Man  proposes — God  dis- 
poses." William  T.  Porter  himself  is  now  numbered  among  those  who 
have  "  gone  before." 

The  publisher  is  enabled  to  say,  however,  that  the  manuscript  of  the 
following  sketch  has  been  examined  by  several  of  the  most  prominent 
associates  of  both  the  deceased  gentlemen,  connected  with  either  the  Press 
or  the  Turf,  and  it  has  been  honored  with  their  entire  and  most  cordial 
approbation.] 

After  the  injunction  of  "silence,"  so  earaestlj  im- 
plored by  the  unfortunate — infelicissimus,  most  unfor- 
tunate— gentleman  whose  real  and  assumed  names  are 
here  mentioned,  there  may,  possibly,  be  some  appearance 


xu 


A   FKW  ME:!ir0IKS   OF 


of  presum])tion,  ov  disi-cspcct,  in  making  any  attempt  at 
a  relation  ot'tlie  principal  incidents  in  his  lite. 

Still,  as  "  Frank  Forester,"  the  lover  of  Xatnre,  the 
charming  writer,  the  Shakespeare  of  sporting  literature, 
Herbert's  name  and  fame  have  now  become  a  species  of 
American  public  property,  as  it  were,  in  which  every 
person  using  the  English  language  takes  a  hearty  interest ; 
and,  without  intending  any  disregard  to  the  personal 
wishes  of  their  dear,  departed  friend — for  such  his  read- 
ers all  feel  and  know  him  to  be — his  spiritual  life  and  his 
literary  influence  have  v.ow  commenced  to  shine  forth  in 
their  true  gloiy,  and  possess  a  greater  hold  than  ever 
upon  the  public  mind,  as  if  enough  never  could  be  writ- 
ten or  printed  concerning  so  versatile  and  fascinating  an 
author. 

Yes,  indeed ;  by  the  matchless  works  Herbert  has  left 
to  s])eak  for  him,  he  is  with  ns  more  than  ever — in  spirit 
— upon  tlie  hill-top,  in  the  flowery  dell,  tracing  the  sides 
of  mountain  brooks  from  bright  and  breezy  eminences,  or 
holding  lofty  communion  with  Nature  among  the  leafy 
arclics  and  solemn  shades  in  our  glorious  old  woods.  As 
a  writer,  he  has  stamped  tlie  current  impress  of  his  gen- 
ius upon  a  yoimg  and  confederated  nation,  just  beginning 
to  find  out  its  vast  possessions  in  topography  and  resources, 
yielding  to  its  inhabitants  almost  every  variety  of  climate 
and  production.  "Frank  Forester,"  with  his  pen,  ac- 
companies us  like  some  well-experienced  surveyor,  walk- 
ing about  with  a  divining  rod.  "  Our  Fraidc  "  does  more. 
He  pleasantly  introduces  us  to  this,  that,  or  the  other 
— whatever  may  be  most  worthy  of  observation — in 
earth,  air,  or  water.  He  points  out  how  to  cherish  and 
preserve  what  an  all-bountiful  Providence  has  in  store  for 
the  active,  the  patient,  or  the  resolute.  He  is  the  "Peter 
Parley "  of  his  delighted  followers.  Wo  incontinently 
shoulder  our  smooth-bore,  lug  the  knapsack,  or  continue 


HENRY   WILLIAM   IIEKBERT. 


xm 


to  hold  a  fisliing-rod  with  botli  hands,  perhaps,  even  if 
some  attendant  mosquitoes  are  busily  digging  into  our 
cuticle.  "We  feel  fairly  enlisted,  with  all  our  manhood. 
We  could  follow  such  a  leader  as  Herbert  to  any  Sebas- 
topol,  or  through  any  Dismal  Swamp.  Health  and  activ- 
ity would  thus  give  Mercury's  wings  to  our  heels,  secur- 
ing a  firm   cohesion  for  our  brains ;    and,  in   town   or 


country,  in  house  or  field,  while  the  English 


language 


goes  on  growing  in  grace  or  grandeur,  the  fame  and  in- 
fluence of  Henry  William  Herbert  must  be  ever  present 
among  our  household  sentiments  and  familiar  conversa- 
tions, especially  as  not  one  of  his  loritings  can  he  found  to 
contain  any  improper  tendencies.  No  wonder  that  the 
name  of  "  Fraidc  Forester  "  is  already  ranked  among  the 
most  endearing  of  our  "household  words."  Wherever 
we  may  go,  the  s^nrit  of  this  instructive  and  pleasing 
writer  seems  to  bo  with  us.  If  we  only  look  ont  upon  the 
road,  or  go  to  the  stable,  we  are  reminded  of  Herbert's 
influence  as  soon  as  our  eyes  rest  upon  a  horse.  The 
horse  itself  has  advanced  in  comfort  and  civilization,  so 
to  speak,  although  ho  may  never  have  known  the  bene- 
factor of  his  race,  perhaps,  in  the  flesh — never  had  an 
opportunity  to  trustingly  rest  his  nose  on  Herbert's  shoul- 
der. But,  Herbert  has  reached  that  horse.  The  genial 
spirit  of  "  Frank  Forester  "  has  penetrated  and  dis})ersed 
the  dark  days  of  mismanagement,  whispering  a  good 
word  or  two  in  season,  among  the  right  parties,  appealing 
to  the  natural  afi'ections  of  the  noble  animal,  and  calling 
forth  the  loyal  response  of  all  the  gallant  creature's  fidel- 
ity and  endurance. 

This  is  no  exaggeration.  The  length  and  breadth  of 
this  glorious  land  are  now  filled  with  the  refreshing  prac- 
tical philosophy  taught  by  "  Frank  Forester."  We  say 
this  not  as  a  mere  figure  of  speech  ;  we  assert  it  as  a  fact, 
honorable  as  well  to  the  reading  public  as  to  the  author 


XIV 


A   FEW   MEMOIRS   OF 


I  i 


I 


II' 


1^  ' 

11  fc 


II! 


they  thus  delight  to  honor.  By  the  spirituahzation  of 
intellect  in  Herbert's  writings,  even  the  largest  and  wild- 
est of  our  American  forests  may  become  organized  into 
classification,  as  if  one  grand  cathedral  for  the  worship  of 
IS^ature  in  the  study  of  natural  history.  The  sunlight  of 
intelligence  seems  to  come  over  the  mountain-tops,  and 
stream  in  through  the  clearings,  lake  shores,  or  oak  open- 
ings, as  if  the  trees  it  illuminates  were  architectural  win- 
dows, depicting  sacred  subjects  for  our  contemplation 
upon  stained  glass,  and  mellowing  our  souls  with  a  sub- 
limity of  thought  ascending  like  incense  from  an  altar 
which  consumes  all  inordinate  desires  and  city-bred  arti- 
ficialities. Surely  then,  no  person  who  has  ever  read 
Herbert's  works  would  intentionally  mar  or  interfere  with 
the  legitimate  operations  of  their  genial  and  refining 
influence. 

No ;  tlie  hand  now  tracing  these  lines  obeys  the  mind 
of  a  friend  who  would  not,  for  worlds,  be  guilty  of  disre- 
garding the  last  wishes  of  so  delightful  (to  him)  a  com- 
panion, and  so  completely  qualified  a  public  instructor  as 
Henry  William  Herbert.  As  the  priest  wears  a  ring  in 
token  of  marriage  with  the  Church,  so  Herbert,  with  his 
pen  in  hand,  was  always  faithful  and  constant  to  his  public. 
A  man  so  wayward — so  peculiar — so  often  troublesome, 
apparently,  to  those  who  had  actual  dealings  with  him, 
is  but  rarely  mot  with ;  and  yet,  he  always  had  one  uni- 
form degree  of  devotion  to  his  readers.  Even  this  was 
more  tacit  than  expressed,  but  it  was,  nevertheless, 
uniform  and  consistent  from  the  time  he  first  began  to 
write  for  the  public  eye.  Perhaps  we  might  say,  by  way 
of  metaphor,  that  Herbert's  only  real  wife  was  his  public. 
Certain  it  is  that  constant  devotion  on  his  part,  and  in- 
creasing kindness  on  the  other,  has  brought  about  a  union 
of  such  indissoluble  happiness  as  deprives  death  of  nearly 
all  its  sting,  and  leaves  the  grave  itself  no  victory. 


HENRY   WILLIAil    IIERBKRT. 


XV 


In  accordance  with  and  in  response  to  a  national — wo 
miglit  almost  say  universal — wish  for  some  biographical 
particulars  relating  to  II.  "W.  Herbert,  we  may  commence 
by  remarking  that  he  was  no  curling-tongs  count,  nor 
runaway  banker's  clerk,  but  precisely  Avhat  he  always 
represented  himself  to  be — an  English  gentleman,  di'- 
scended  from  and  connected  with  some  of  the  oldest  and 
most  aristocratic  families  in  Great  Britain  and  Ireland. 

The  Ilurberts  (or  Fitz-IIerberts,  as  they  are  frequently 
called  in  England)  are  undoiibtedly  of  ancient  origin  and 
high  rank.  The  name  of  FitzJIerbert,  signifying  Son-ot- 
Ilerbert,  came  into  vogue  in  consequence  of  the  long 
interval  between  their  early  progenitor  of  im])ortance, 
who  was  lord-chamberlain  to  King  Henry  I.  from  about 
1120  till  1135,  and  the  creation  of  William  Herbert  as 
Earl  of  Pembroke  by  Edward  IV.  in  UG8. 

Chamberlains  were  of  some  importance  in  England 
about  those  days,  especially  when  they  acted  us  ojficier  du 
houchc^  or  mouth-]>rovider  (chief  butler),  for  their  royal 
masters.  This  office  was  always  considered  a  safe  position 
for  an  ambitious  man.  Henry  I.  was  killed  by  a  surfeit 
after  eating  too  many  lampreys — a  kind  of  fish  he  was 
very  fond  of — at  Lyons,  in  Normandy.  Edward  IV. 
generally  overcame  his  surfeits ;  but,  when  he  made  pris- 
oner of  the  Duke  of  Clarence,  one  of  his  brothers,  who 
had  joined  in  a  rebellion  against  him  x;nder  the  Earl  ot 
"Warwick,  he  ordered  the  duke  to  be  drowned  in  a  butt 
of  Malmsey  wine,  and  the  sentence  was  duly  executed  by 
the  king's  chief  butler.  These  little  facts  are  only  men- 
tioned here  in  order  to  show  that  the  family  of  Herberts 
would  be  likely  to  copy  or  inherit  all  the  peculiar  "  no- 
tions" of  monarchy  since  the  days  of  the  Norman  kings; 
and,  wherein  tliej  have  not,  we  must  give  their  heads  and 
hearts  credit  for  the  diiference. 

The  English  people  have  gradually  made  their  mon- 


XVI 


A   FEW   MEMOIRS   OF 


I  • 


archs  understand  the  necessity  and  convenience  of  good 
beliavior.  Ileniy  I.  was  the  third  of  the  four  Norman 
kings.  Then  came  fourteen  of  tlie  PUintagcnet  family. 
Edward  IV.  was  the  twelfth  among  them.  Then  came 
live  of  the  house  of  Tudor.  Then  followed  six  of  the 
Stuart  line.  After  these  came  five  of  the  Brunswick 
line ;  and,  finally,  Queen  Victoria.  Now,  as  Henry  I. 
(like  his  brother,  AVilliain  Rufus)  was  a  son  of  William 
the  Conqueror,  the  Herberts  may  be  said  to  have  seen 
and  survived  nearly  all  the  important  changes  in  English 
societv.  There  are  but  two  other  families  more  ancient 
in  the  provision  of  good  things  for  the  royal  tables. 
These  are  the  Botelers  and  the  Dalbiacs,  who  "  came  in 
with  the  Conqueror." 

While  attempting  to  judge  of  Herbert's  character,  all 
these  antecedents  of  his  family  should  be  considered,  as 
of  course  they  (unconsciously  to  him)  helped  to  form  in 
his  mind  those  notions  of  classification  and  exclusiveness 
which  seem  so  absurd  and  inexplicable  to  jiersons  not 
acquainted  with  their  historical  origin  and  ancestral  or 
legal  importance.  Herbert  would  be  pleasant  among 
gentlemen  whom  he  knew  to  be  such,  according  to  his 
ideas ;  he  would  also  be  quite  afl'able  and  jolly  among  his 
jockey  acquaintances ;  but,  as  soon  as  he  came  near  what 
are  sometimes  called  "gentlemen-jocks,"  he  seemed  to 
try  how  ugly  and  wilful  he  could  behave.  Such  was  one 
of  his  "  notions."  He  thus  caused  himself  to  be  much 
misunderstood,  and  sometimes  seemed  to  revel  in  the 
misunderstanding.  He  wronged  himself,  however,  more 
than  anybody  else,  for  strangers  cared  not  a  snap  about 
his  notions,  while  those  who  knew  him  also  knew  that  his 
heart  was  full  of  universal  sympathy,  and  the  sympathy- 
seeking  cast  of  his  mind  was  admirably  well  qualified  for 
adapting  the  most  matured  maxims  of  art  to  the  fresh 
feelings  and  candid  expressioas  of  a  free  and  independent 


; 


HENRY   WILLIAM    IIKRBKET. 


XVll 


people,  as  all  his  writings  most  conclusively  show,  flow 
Irequently  do  the  most  worthy  individuals  and  greatest 
nations  misunderstand  each  other's  manners  and  cus- 
toms ! 

The  first  Earl  of  Pembroke,  already  mentioned,  was 
taken  prisoner  by  the  Lancasteriau  party,  and  beheaded 
by  them  in  about  a  year  after  he  obtained  his  earldom. 
His  wife  was  Anne  Dcvereaux,  sister  of  Lord  Ferrers  of 
Chantley.  She  had  a  large  family,  but  William  Herbert's 
successors  became  extinct  in  the  male  line  after  two  more 
generations.  From  William's  brother,  however,  have 
descended  the  famous  Herberts  of  Cherbury,  and  one  of 
these  became  Earl  Powis  in  1746.  This  line  also  became 
extinct  in  a  similar  way,  and  passed  with  a  daughter  of 
Earl  Powis  into  the  tamily  of  the  famous  Lord  Clive, 
where  it  yet  remains. 

We  do  not  know  whether  there  is,  or  need  be,  any 
"bar  sinister"  upon  the  subject  in  the  heraldic  insignia 
of  the  Herberts,  but  it  so  hapjiened  that  the  aforesaid 
William  Herbert,  first  Earl  of  Pembroke,  left  a  son  by  a 
Welsh  lady  who  bore  his  name  of  Herbert,  in  Montgom- 
eryshire. The  son  of  that  son  married  Anne  Parr,  sister 
of  Catharine  Parr,  the  sixth  and  last  uife  of  Henry  VHL 
This  renewed  the  influence  of  the  Herberts  at  court ;  and, 
after  "Old  Harry  "was  dead,  in  the  year  1551,  during 
the  reign  of  Edward  VI.,  the  grandson  of  the  first  earl 
received  the  title  of  Earl  of  Pembroke  by  a  new  creation, 
joined  with  that  of  Earl  of  Montgomery,  inherited  on  the 
maternal  side.  This  title  is  now  held  by  Robert  Herbert, 
a  descendant  of  the  eighth  generation,  but  reckons  by 
fraternal  mutations  of  the  line  as  the  twelfth  Earl  of  Pem- 
broke and  the  ninth  Earl  of  Montgomery.  Sidney  Her- 
bert, late  Secretary  of  War  in  the  British  cabinet,  is  a 
brother  to  this  personage. 

Among  the  younger  sons  of  Thomas   Herbert,  the 


•  •• 

xvm 


A    FKW   MKM0IR8   OF 


eighth  Earl  of  PembrolvC,  was  General  "William  Tlerbert, 
■who  (listiiiguished  hiinselt'  greatly  in  the  public  vservicc, 
aiul  also  had  tlie  good  fortune  to  marry  Eh'za  Wyndhani, 
distingnislied  as  the  grcat-grand-daugliter  of  tlie  Duke  of 
Somerset  and  of  Elizabeth  Percy,  who  was  a  sister  of  the 
last  Earl  of  Northumberland,  of  tlie  old  continental  line 
of  Jdscelyn  of  Louvain.  General  William  Herbert  was, 
therefore,  on  these  accounts,  raised  to  the  peerage,  with 
the  title  of  Earl  of  Carnarvon,  in  1703. 

The  third  son  of  this  first  Earl  of  Carnarvon  was  the 
Hon.  and  Eev.  "William  Herbert,  subsequently  Dean  of 
Manchester,  and  tlie  father  of  the  subject  of  these  me- 
moirs. Hence,  it  is  clear  that  our  own  "  Frank  Forester,"' 
the  modern  author,  was  a  descendant  of  the  ])roud  Per- 
cys, the  irascible  Joscelyns,  and  the  ducal  Somersets, 
eomniingled  with  the  agricultural  Herberts,  as  well  as 
the  literary  and  liberty-loving  Sidneys.  On  the  maternal 
side,  besides  the  original  "Welsh  blood  of  the  Montgomery 
stock,  he  inherited  an  Irish  influence  of  the  very  highest 
character,  his  mother  being  the  Hon.  Letitia  Allyn,  second 
daughter  of  Viscount  Allyn  of  Ivildare,  one  of  the  Irish 
re])re8entative  peers,  and  a  branch  of  the  princely  Lein- 
ster  line.  This  estimable  lady  is  now  living  in  May  Fair, 
London.  Herbert's  father,  the  Dean  of  Manchester,  is 
best  known  to  American  readers  as  the  author  of  "Attila." 
He  was  a  i)rofound  scholar,  and  died  in  1847. 

Henry  William  Herbert  was  born  in  London  on  the 
7th  of  April,  1807,  a  year  which  has  been  made  famous 
by  giving  America  her  Longfellow  and  her  Willis.  Un- 
til the  age  of  twelve.  Master  Henry  was  taken  charge  of 
by  ]n'ivate  tutors  in  his  father's  house,  which,  in  those 
days  especially,  was  a  general  resort  for  parliamentary 
wits  and  distinguished  scholars.  On  entering  his  teens, 
Henry  was  sent  to  Dr.  Hooker's  academy  at  Brighton,  on 
the  Sussex  coast.     In  April,  1820,  commencing  his  four 


] 

\ 


I 


,; 


i 


lIKNiiV    WILLIAM    HKRIJKIJT. 


XIX 


n 


tociitli  year,  he  was  entered  at  Eton,  where  liis  hapj)}' 
powers  of  analysis,  or  of  synfliesis,  astonished  all  the  ]>n»- 
fossors.  lie  made  sneli  remarkable  pro^jress  tliat  in  ISii.'i 
his  fatlicr  sent  him  to  Cains  Colloiie,  Cambridge,  and  in 
the  chiss  of  1829-30  he  gradnated  thence. 

Wliile  at  Cambridge  the  society  of  the  youthful  Her- 
bert was  eagerly  sought  after  by  more  wealthy  your.g 
commoners;  and,  as  he  was  equally  anxious  to  associate 
with  them,  he  gradually  formed  some  very  expensive 
habits.  In  books  and  in  clothing,  boating,  racing,  tandem 
drives,  etc.,  lie  scattered  money  extravagantly  ;  l)ut  there 
are  always  very  kind  old  gentlemen,  around  colleges 
especially,  who  know  a  young  man's  pedigree  and  con- 
nections as  well,  if  not  bettor,  than  he  does  himself,  and 
who  have  a  particular  regard  for  lending  money  to  young 
gentlemen  with  large  expectations  themselves  or  parents 
able  to  pay  up  all  forfeits.  One  of  the  best  things  Her- 
bert did  while  at  Cambridge  was  to  join  a  troop  of  Cam- 
bridgeshire Yeomanry  Cavalry,  a  full  squadron  of  which 
was  occasionally  " camped  out"  on  the  routes  between 
Cambridge  and  Huntingdon,  Peterborough,  Lynn,  Nor- 
wich, and  sometimes  as  far  north  as  Boston  in  Lincoln- 
shire, as  the  different  counties  might  invite  each  other's 
members,  generally  freeholders  of  the  county,  but  always 
willing  to  receive  recruits  from  among  the  collegians. 
By  the  knowledge  of  equestrian  and  field  movements  thus 
acquired,  Herbert  was  subsequently  enabled  to  give  us 
those  fine  descriptions  of  Ilonuxn  battles,  sieges,  and  cam- 
paigns (by  the  way,  the  historian  Gibbon  has  made  use 
of  a  similar  advantage  in  early  education  among  his 
works),  which  Herbert's  delighted  readers  find  in  "The 
Captains  of  the  Old  AVorld,"  or  in  "The  Roman  Repub- 
lic," and  which  he  intended  to  have  continued.  Much 
of  the  supposed  hauteur  of  Herbert's  manner  arose  from 
the  fact  that  his  mind  was  so  frequently  "  pro-occupied  " 

VOL.    I.  2 


I' 


XX 


A    FKW    MKMOIKS   OF 


— iiH  tlie  French  would  siiy — with  some  otlicr  sct'iio,  Ui 
othiT  hinds,  and  anioiii!:  otliiT  hiiiii'iiiii-vs,  so  that  liis  return 
to  present  realities,  and  the  use  nf  vei'iiacular  Kn<;lish, 
re(|nired  a  mental  ettnrt  which  ini;;ht  easily  be  mistaken 
tor  lack  of  courtesy.  Thei'e  nee(l  he  no  doidtt  ot'  this,  for 
in  his  writiny's  the  ma<;netic  chord  of  attraction  is  never 
intermitted  between  him  and  his  readers,  or  between 
them  and  him.  Nor  does  he  make  any  puride  of  learned 
lore,  either  by  allusion  or  quotation,  except  as  they  would 
mi<j<'est  themselves  to  tlmse  scholars  who  can  I'cvel  in 
piniihir  tlii>;hts  of  classic  exploration  and  poetic  adaptation. 
And  yet,  of  all  the  writers  ever  <i;ifted  to  charm  all 
classes,  we  know  of  no  one  who  has  more  uniforndy  kept 
in  view  the  old  nuixim  that — vifhuni  flidcv  muff/jd/'cat 
atiiicos,  etc. — sweet  lan<j;uaf;e  will  multiply  friends,  and  a 
fair-speakiui;  tontj^ue  will  multiply  kind  <ijreetin_i;s. 

These  considerations  and  circmnstances  remind  us  of 
the  often  mentioned  difference  implied  by  the  exhorta- 
tion—  "Do  as  I  j)/u'ac/i,  no  matter  what  I  may  c?o." 
While  at  college,  Herbert  had  so  rapidly  acquired  a  I'cst- 
less  and  reckless  way  of  liviuij,  that  his  parents  could 
exei'cise  little  or  no  control  over  him.  Tie  ))lunged 
deei)er  and  deejier  into  debt  after  coining  of  age;  and,  on 
being  "  whitewashed  "  for  the  third  time  b}'  the  insolvency 
])rocess,  the  usual  sentence  of  outlawry  for  debt  was  pub- 
lished. Ilei'bert  then  voluntarily  went  to  Brussels,  siiid 
afterwards  to  Paris;  but  neither  the  Continent,  nor  Eu- 
'  self,  were  larire  enough  for  '  ' 


roj) 


pccui 


"no  pent-up  Utica"  could  satisfy  him;  nothing  short  of 
"a  boundless  continent,"  like  that  of  America,  seemed 
worthy  of  his  notice. 

Herbert  landed  in  this  country  about  jVovember,  1831, 
and  the  few  hundred  potinds  he  brought  with  him  having 
been  soon  expended,  he  was  compelled  to  turn  his  atten- 
tion to  business.     He  readily  obtained  an  engagement  as 


HIINUV    WII, 1,1AM    IIMKIIKIM'. 


xxi 


ring 


a  tciu'licr  of  (irt'C'k  in  the  IJcv.  ]{.  Townsciid  IfiKMart's 
cliissical  aiitl  ta^lli^>llallI('  sc1i«m»1,  wliicli  at  that  tiiiii'  was 
ill  Mcavcr  street,  near  I'madway.  The  diifies  ot'hisstatiini, 
and  the  select  coinpany  he  met  witii,  wi-re  ton  ninch  like 
those  at  his  father's  house  at  home.  Ilerhert  was,  like 
Ilazlitt,  "an  untamahle  h»ver  of  liherty,"  and  h(;  <i'ra(hially 
hej^an  to  write  for  the  |>ress,  in  a  sort  of  anonymous  man- 
ner, hut  with  no  oitjeetioii  to  the  pecmuary  i-esults,  ^lak- 
ini;  tlio  ae<juaintanct'  of  the  edilorof  the  "Spirit  of  tho 
Times,"  Coh  Wm.  T.  Porter,  the  "tall  son  of  York,"  Iler- 
hcrt's  contrihutions  were  gladly  received,  lie  then  "did 
up  the  reviews"  for  the  "Courier  and  Kn(jinrer,"  and 
Boon  nnide  his  mark  as  a  keen  and  trenchant  ivviewer. 
Notwithstandinti;  a  discovery  of  these  facts,  it  is  due  t<» 
the  memory  of  the  deceased  to  state  that  he  retained  tho 
most  honorable  confidence,  while  j^iving  i»erfect  satifac- 
tion,  at  ^Ir.  IIu<ldart's  school  for  eight  years. 

In  1S;U,  Ilerl.ert's  first  historical  novel,  "The  Bro- 
thers, a  Tale  of  the  Fmnde,"  was  puhlished  hy  the  Har- 
pers, and  was  very  favorably  received  hy  the  public. 
Such  a  writer  certainly  was  an  ac(piisition  in  those  days, 
and  tho  American  mind  readily  acknowledged  the  au- 
thor's claims  to  distinction.  For  some  reasons  we  do  not 
understand,  and  have  no  wish  to  interfere  with,  this  work 
has  been  allowed  to  go  out  of  ])rint,  although  it  is  said 
that  the  pages  are  stere<»typed,  ami  the  plates  are  in  pos- 
session of  Messrs.  Harper,  who  refuse  to  allow  any  further 
use  to  be  made  of  them.  Herbert  was  for  a  Ion"  time 
known  to  the  public  only  by  th(>  title  of  "author  of  The 
Bntthers,''  etc.,  but  he  never  oti'ered  tlie  Harpers  any 
more  of  his  ]\rS8.  A  member  of  that  enterprising  firm  is 
said  to  have  been  "hit  off"  in  the  "Warwick  Woodlands." 

From  lS;^>o  to  ISHt),  Herbert  was,  more  or  less,  con- 
nected with  the  "American  Monthly  JMagazine,"  some- 
times writing  all  the  editorial  matter,  liaving  succeeded 


XXll 


A   KKW    MEMOIltS   OF 


Dr.  A.  D.  Patterson,  nnd  joined  Charles  F.  Hoffman  in  its 
editorial  management. 

In  1837,  llerhert'e  reputation  as  a  writer  of  historical 
novels  seemed  fully  confirmed  by  the  appearance  of 
"Cromwell,"  which  was  even  more  favorably  received  by 
the  American  public  than  "The  Brothers." 

In  1838,  Herbert  became  mixed  up  in  a  dispute  lead- 
ing to  a  proposed  duel,  which  would  undoubtedly  have 
taken  phice  but  for  a  severe  snow-storm,  which  prevented 
the  parties  from  meeting  in  Camvda  as  intended.  The 
second  of  his  antagonist,  having  subsequently  reproache<I 
Herbert  with  cowardice  at  Washington  Hall,  in  New 
York,  the  latter  fired  twice  at  his  accuser,  but  the  balls 
went  into  the  door  of  the  room  as  the  other  gentlenuui 
went  out.  This  affair  furnished  much  gossip  for  the  small 
daily  papers  then  coming  into  notice. 

Washington  Ilall  was  on  the  Reade  street  corner  of 
wliat  is  now  known  as  Stewart's  nnirble  palace  in  Broad 
way.  This  hotel  was  the  general  head-quarters  of  all  the 
"men  about  town,"  and  the  "  Bucks  of  Washington  Hall" 
was  a  title  commoidy  given  to  the  frequenters  of  its  bar- 
room. All  the  "  odd  Ush  "  and  "  strange  geniuses  "  were 
sure  to  go  there,  by  a  sort  of  tacit  understanding,  as  soon 
as  they  arrived  in  New  York.  The  hotel  became  partic- 
ularly famous  after  it  had  been  visited  by  Madame  Mali- 
bran,  and  here  it  was  that  Mr.  Gilfert,  then  proprietor  of  the 
Bowery  Theatre,  offered  the  gifted  songstress  the  articles  of 
an  engagement,  with  blanks  left  for  herself  to  insert  such 
terms  of  payment  as  she  might  think  proper.  The  arrival, 
in  1831,  of  such  an  "invincible  "  as  Herbert  threw  "the 
whole  crowd "  into  ecstasies.  His  cavalier  boots,  with 
King  Charles  spurs,  were  voted  "just  the  cheese."  His 
moustach  js,  such  articles  being  rarely  seen  in  Broadway 
during  those  days,  attracted  many  a  fair  one's  favorable 
glance  from  the  opposite  or  fashionable  side  of  the  way. 


1 


HKNUY    WII.I.IAM    HKnUKKT. 


XXIIl 


:^ 


Wa  do  not  inonn  to  imply  that  Hirlicrt  was  nn  imiinte 
nt  Wiibliitigtoii  Hull,  iiltli<mji;li,  liki'  liuiulivdrt  of  otliciv, 
ho  vihited  th(5  hoiibi;  occasiuiially.  lli'  waH  hnanliii^'  at 
tho  Carlton  House,  wliitlicr  he  had  gone  in  IS.'JO,  beeause 
his  connection  with  the  "Courier  and  Kmiuirer"  and 
other  papers,  all  publihhed  down  town,  had  heeonie  bo 
intimate  as  to  engross  a  large  })()rtion  ot'  his  time.  James 
O.  Sargent  was  in  th<»se  days  one  of  the  leading  editors 
of  the  ''  Courier,"  and  a  strong  team — from  Matthew  L. 
Davis  around  to  Charles  A.  Jhirdett — were  engaged  to 
lill  the  various  departmental  duties.  As  a  reviewer  and 
an  occasional  contributor  of  poetry,  Ilerltert's  name  and 
presence  became  fanuliar  in  literary,  artistic,  and  musical 
circles.  As  a  natural  consequence,  his  handsonu^  ])erson 
and  fascinating  nnmners  caused  the  society  of  such  a  num 
to  be  much  courted  by  the  ladies,  but  his  thoughts  were 
too  much  occuj)ied  by  his  writings  or  b}'  "the  jolly  dogs 
of  the  clubs"  to  seriously  entertain  the  idea  of  marriage. 

In  this  state  of  aft'airs,  Herbert  was  requested,  one  day 
in  lS3't),  to  accompany  one  of  his  literary  friends,  Mr. 
Joseph  A.  Scoville,  on  a  wedding  tour  to  Bangor,  in 
Maine.  Mr.  Scoville  was  at  that  time  in  wealthy  and 
promising  circumstances.  He  was  abf>ut  to  nuirry  a  Miss 
Barker,  daughter  of  the  then  Mayor  of  Bangor.  Herbert 
found  that  Scoville  had  so  much  set  his  mind  upon  hav- 
ing him  as  groomsman  at  the  wedding  that  at  last  he  con- 
sented to  accompany  the  expectant  bridegroom.  The 
inconvenience  of  leaving  business  in  New  York  would  be 
compensated  by  a  round  trip  of  a  thousand  miles,  and  the 
pleasure  of  witnessing  a  joyful  occasion. 

After  arriving  at  Bangor,  there  was,  for  some  unac- 
countable reason,  a  slight  delay.  In  the  mean  time,  tlie 
astounding  discovery  was  made  that  the  intended  bride 
was  quite  willing  for  the  ceremonies  of  sacrifice  at  the 
hy menial  altar  to  proceed,  bict  it  was  with  Henry  William 


SXIV 


A   KKW    MKMOIUS   OF 


Herbert  only  for  lier  Imsbaml ;  juul  thus  the  ut'oresald 
J(tsei)h  A.  IScoville  toimd  liiiiiselt' in  ii  jieculiarly  perplex- 
iiiif  prcdicuuioiit,  Jiiul  his  luiiul  hn^,  wo  believe,  never 
fully  recovered  troui  this  distressing  shoek  to  its  original 
sensibilities.  These  circunistanees  are  u  sid>jeet  of  gossip 
down  to  the  present  diiy  in  Jjungor.  This  is,  undisj)Ut{i- 
bly,  ii  free  country ;  our  Pui'itiin  brothers  in  the  East 
have  peculiar  ideas  of  European  nobility;  and  t'le  sway 
of  fenuile  power  is  not  only  absolute  but  unquostioiuvble 
in  American  society.  The  real  motives  of  action  in  such 
cases  are  necessarily  of  a  private  nature,  and  it  is  not 
likely  that  they  ever  can  be  proi)erly  understood  by  out- 
side lookers-on.  We  have  here  stated  such  facts  as  are 
known  to  have  occurred,  and  they  go  to  show  that  II.  W. 
llei'beri  was  not  tlie  only  odd  character  in  his  day  and 
generation.  As  "Death  loves  a  shining  mark,"  so  does 
''the  reptile  si)irit  of  calumny," 

Ilistoi-y  teaches  that  royal  marriages,  when  conducted 
by  ])roxy,  sometimes  lead  to  dangerous  i)erils  from  the 
despotism  of  love.  The  anibassador  is  frerpiently  thought 
moi'e  of  than  the  prince  who  sent  him.  I>ut  Herbert  was 
not  the  man  to  play  the  part  of  Dandini  to  any  other 
man's  Prince  Felix — Cinderella  or  no  Cinderella.  Iler- 
b(;rt's  ])rincipal  was  present. 

The  general  consistency  of  Herbert's  spirit-life  may  be 
seen  in  the  fact  that  a  happy  nuirriage  made  him  more 
useful  and  more  admii-able  in  society.  Domestic  disquiet 
being  a  fatal  bar  to  all  sid)limitv  of  attainment,  no  man — 
however  great  he  may  be  in  the  way  of  genius  or  of  indus- 
try— can  possibly  ])rosj)er  uiuler  such  despotic  and 
obtrusive  misery.  Ihit,  with  a  hajipy  home,  all  the  ordi- 
nary troubles  of  life  are  dei)rived  f>f  any  serious  influence, 
and  the  man  has  some  chance  for  shining  forth  in  his  true 
character.  So  it  was  with  Herbert.  In  1840,  the  year 
his  sou  was  born,  Herbert  extended  his  literary  and  poet- 


IIKNUV    WILLIAM    IIKIIBKUT. 


XXV 


ical  contributions  to  tlie  press  more  freely  tliaii  ever.  It 
was  iit  tliis  Interesting  period  wlien  tlie  name  of  *•  Frank 
Forester"  became  created  from  Herbert's  Jove-like  brain, 
and  the  world  has  consented  to  receive 

"FllAXK   FOIlKSTKIl" 


with  all  the  honors,  rog;ardless  of  title  or  nation,  heraldic 
devices  or  peerage  books,  but  simply  for  that  love  of 
Natui'i' which  nudges'*  all  maidvind  akin."  The  name  of 
"Frank  Forester"  soon  became  famctus  by  carrvinu-  on  a 
very  spirited  controversy  in  the  "American  Turf  Regis- 
ter "  with  the  able  articles  furnished  by  "Cypress,  Jr." 
"Our  Frank"  was  joyfully  rect'ived  among  the  great 
fannly  <if  public  favorites.  His  "•  liingwood  the  Jir»ver" 
and  "  Warwick  AV^oodlands,"  caused  a  general  desire  to 
have  "a  few  more  of  the  same  sort."  While  thus  en- 
gaged in  j)roducing  some  of  the  finest  novels  in  his  day, 
he  found  time  to  contrilmte  many  a  good  fugitive  article 
to  the  "Knickerbocker  ^[auaziiie,"  "(JrahanTs  ^Maira- 
zine,"  and  several  other  ])eriodicals.  There  was  scarely 
an  issue  of  the  last  named  magazine  without  one,  two,  and 
sometimes  three,  articles  from  IK-rberi's  ready  pen;  and 
these  were  generally  thrown  off  by  him  without  much 
thought  or  linish,  as  mei'ely  mental  pastime  among  his 
other  more  permanent  literary  labors. 

One  of  the  articles  Herbert  furnished  to  Gi'aliam  in 
1S41,  was  "The  Itonuin  l>ride,"'  a  beautiful  story,  in  which 
the  general  character  of  Attila  the  Hun,  as  ])ortra\ed  by 
Herbi'rt's  father  in  his  famous  poem  of  "Attila,"  is  well 
exemplilii'd  by  the  incidents  attending  the  interruj)iion  of 
the  bi'ide's  marriage  with  Aurelius,  and  the  dreadful  com- 
bat between  the  sturdy  barbarians  of  the  Hun  and  the 
gallant  cham]iions  of  lionnui  virtue.  Tiie  subject  is  re- 
nowned foj- its  artistic  beauties,  ami  Herbert's  treatment 


(   ;  , 


I  i 


I 


I : . ! 


XXVI 


A   FEW    MEMOIRS   OF 


of  it  is  a  fine  specimen  of  his  donbly-gifted  power  of 
description  and  condensation. 

Anotlier  of  the  articles  sent  to  Graham  in  18il,  was 
"The  Marriage  of  Achilles,"  which  attracted  general 
attention,  for  it  showed  the  immense  wealth  of  claesic  lore 
in  tlie  author's  mind,  and  his  ability  to  concentrate  and 
reweave  the  charming  fruits  of  previous  ages  of  study 
into  the  small  scope  of  a  magazine  article.  It  astonished 
some  of  our  oldest  and  best-read  collegians  with  its  abun- 
dance of  liistorical  detail,  and  it  delighted  the  most  super- 
ficial readeis  with  its  easily  intellif^ible  cror^'eousness  of 
descriptioji,  partaking  of  both  the  voluptuous  and  heroic. 
The  article  read  as  if  the  old  spirit  of  Grecian  mytlu)logy 
had  taken  up  a  new  abode  among  the  brightness  of  the 
American  continent,  to  keep  alive  our  love  of  tlie  beau- 
tiful, while  showing  the  ancient  sword  of  military  warfare 
crowned  with  a  wreath  of  orange-bhissoms  and  myrtle 
leaves,  surrounded  by  a  halo  of  poetic  glory,  "  lambent 
and  imitative  of  the  lights  that  stud  the  empyrean." 

However,  our  purpose  at  present  requires  us  to  pass 
on  without  stopping  to  indulge  in  a  consideration  of  Her- 
bert's writijigs,  except  so  far  as  they  give  some  outline  of 
his  life  and  character.  Suffice  it  to  say,  that  public  favor 
induced  him  to  gradually  make  his  choice  of  subjects  more 
familiar;  for,  with  all  his  faults,  he  was  true  to  his  great 
patron — the  American  peojde.  His  "Mnrmaduke  AVyvil ; 
or,  the  Maid's  Kevenge,"  published  in  1843,  was  uncom- 
monly well  received,  but  he  wrote  more  and  more  sport- 
inir  matter  as  he  found  "Frank  Forester"  was  a  more 
potent  name  than  even  that  of  H.  W.  Herbert.  His  con- 
nection with  the  "Spirit  of  the  Times,"  and  its  then 
editor,  Wm.  T.  Porter,  Avas  Herbert's  most  magnetic 
link  of  communication  with  popular  favor,  and  many  a 
"spicy  article  "  has  been  concocted  among  the  frequent- 
ers near  the  "  old  Spirit"  office,  Avhen  it  was  in  Barclay 


1 


1 


s 


IIENKY    WILLIAM   IIEKBKRT. 


xxvu 


street  under  the  American  Hotel,  on  the  corner  of  Broad- 
way, in  the  good  old  days  of  Col.  Cozzens.  This  kind  of 
influence  subsequently  brought  forth  those  treatises  on 
sporting  niattcis  and  natural  history  which  have  now  be- 
come standard  works  in  our  national  literature. 

Mr.  and  ^hs.  Herbert,  shortly  after  marriage  removed 
from  the  Carlton  House,  in  New  York,  to  the  Park  House 
in  Newark,  N.  J.  In  1846,  Mrs.  Herbert  died  while  at 
the  latter  place.  Their  son  had  been  sent  to  England, 
where  he  found  great  favor  with  all  his  father's  I'elatives, 
and  his  education  iuid  been  already  undertaken  by  them. 
A  proposition  was  made  for  the  purchase  of  a  house  and 
homestead  for  the  youthful  Herbert,  which,  however, 
should  be  inalienable  for  any  other  purpose,  except  it 
might  be  as  a  residence  for  II.  AV.  Herbert  (held  by  a 
deed  of  trust)  until  his  son  became  of  age.  Herbert,  hav- 
ing long  liked  "  the  Cedars,"  a  little  shooting-box  between 
Newark  and  Belleville,  suggested  its  adoption,  and  took 
up  his  entire  residence  there  shortly  after  Mrs.  Herbert's 
death.  It  is  a  ronumtic  little  spot,  only  an  acre  of  ground^ 
and  the  cottage  is  built  in  the  Mary  Tudor  style,  so  situ- 
ated as  to  be  eml)owered  in  foliage. 

Here  the  mind  of  "  Frank  Foi-ester  "  gave  forth  "  My 
Shooting  Box,"  "Ballads  of  tlie  American  Revolution," 
"Tlie  Field  Sports  of  America,"  "The  Deer  Stalkers," 
"The  Quorndon  ILnmds,"  "Fish  and  Fishing  of  North 
America,"  "Game  in  its  Seasons,"  "The  Young  Sports- 
man's Manual,"  and,  finally,  his  great  work  on  "The 
Horse  and  Horse nuvnship  of  America."  Amo!ig  the  un- 
finished works  at  the  time  of  his  death  were,  "Tricks  and 
Trai'S  of  Horsedealers,"  "  Hints  to  Ilorsekeepers,"  etc. 

As  H.  W.  Herbert  he  was  equally  busy,  altliough, 
perhaps  not  yet  so  poj^ularly  known,  by  such  woi-ks  as 
"Tiie  Roman  Traitor,  a  Romance  fouiuled  on  Cataline's 
Conspiracy,"  publislied  in  1848.     Tliis  was   followed  by 


XXVlll 


A   FKW   MKMOIRS   OF 


i!^ 


"A  jS[cti'iciil  Transliitiou  of  the  Pi-omotlicus  and  Ana- 
TneiniKni  of  .Kscliylui?,"  "  Henry  VIII.  and  his  Six 
WiveP,"  "The  Cavaliers  of  En^i?huul,"  "The  Chevaliers 
of  France,"  "The  Knights  of  England,  France,  and  Scot- 
land," "The  Captains  of  the  Old  AVorld,"  "Persons  and 
Pictures  fntni  the  Histories  of  France  and  Kngland,''' 
"The  Captains  of  the  Roman  Ilepnblic,"  and  "The 
Wager  of  Battle."  Put  the  greatest  effort  in  this  class  of 
writing  remains  unfinished — a  spii'ited  translation  from 
the  "Iliad  "  of  Homer;  there  is  also  a  beautifully  ro;uan- 
tic  account  of  "The  Marvs  of  Ilistorv,"  the  MS.  being 
quite  complete,  as  he  left  it,  but  of  course  additional 
characters  might  be  selected. 

Besides  these  acknowledged  works,  liis  contributions 
to  newspapers  and  magazines  are  almost  countless.  In 
1850  he  gave  much  time  to  a  i)a])er  called  "The  Sunday 
Era,"  and  in  18.51  to  another  called  "The  Sachem,"  both 
published  in  ^'ew  Yoi'k.  He  also  contributed  many  ar- 
ticles to  what  is  now  known  as  "  Pallou's  Pictorial,"  in 
Boston.  Dr.  Patterson's  "Anglo-xVmerican,"  about  1839, 
had  fledged  his  pen  for  newspapers. 

AV^e  have  more  occasion  to  speak  of  Herbert  as  a 
writer  than  his  private  affairs  as  a  man;  but,  in  oi'der  to 
make  this  sketch  as  com])lete  as  ])ossib]e,  we  must  record 
the  fact  that  he  had  some  trifling  dispute  with  a  legal 
gentleman  named  Valentine,  which  resulted  in  a  duel, 
and  took  place  near  Herbert's  residence  at  "the  Cedars." 
After  Herbert  had  been  shot  near  one  of  his  aid<les,  and 
Mr.  Valentine  lost  a  button  from  his  waistband,  the  affair 
was  amicably  settled.  By  a  sad  coincidence  with  Her- 
bert's subsecpient  fate,  we  may  stat<^  that  ]\Ir.  Valentine 
conmiitted  suicide  shortly  after  this  duel.  The  previous 
duel  in  which  Herbert's  name  was  concerned  owed  most 
of  its  notoriety  to  the  fact  that  it  almost  immediately  fol- 
lowed the  fatal  rencontre  Ijetween  Barton  and  Graham,  at 


I 


jiili. 


HKNRY   WILLIAM    IIEUBEKT. 


XXIX 


riobokcii.  The  duel  with  Mr.  Viileiitine  attracted  but 
little  notice,  and  we  siiould  hardly  mention  it  hei'e  except 
for  tlie  sake  of  impartiality. 

Our  duty  now  leads  us  to  a  much  more  delicate  affair, 
in  which  we  hope  to  be  correct  without  intrusion.  In 
February,  1858,  the  newspapers  of  Kewark,  X.  J.,  and 
New  York,  announced  the  marriage  of  Henry  William 
Herbert  with  Adela  R.  Budlon<jj,  as  having  taken  place 
on  the  10th  of  that  month.  They  were  married  by  the 
Rev.  John  Shackleford,  at  the  Episcopalian  House  of 
Prayer,  in  Newark.  This  announcement  caused  consider- 
able gossip,  but  that  soon  subsided.  Herbert  was  in 
ecstasies  with  his  new  choice,  and  sad  onlv  when  she  was 
absent.  In  a  few  weeks,  among  the  callers  upon  the 
newly  married  lady  was  a  person  who  professed  to  know 
much  of  Herbert's  affairs,  and  also  to  have  such  a  great 
regard  for  the  new  Mrs.  Herbert  that  she  could  not  take 
her  leave  without  giving  her  a  large  amount  of  very  spicy 
information,  taking  great  care,  however,  to  exact  a  i)rom- 
ise  that  the  name  of  the  informant  should  not  l)e  re- 
vealed. 

From  that  moment,  peace  fled  the  happy  abode  at 
"  the  Cedars."  All  poor  Herbert's  plans  of  reformation 
and  future  improvement  were  ui)set.  Mrs.  Herbert  is 
said  to  have  left  the  house  while  he  was  absent  in  New 
York,  whither  he  had  gone  to  engage  rooms  at  the  Ste- 
vens House,  thinking  that  more  lively  company  and  less 
slanderous  callers  would  be  more  agreeable  for  Mrs.  Her- 
bert. His  clear  use  of  reason  never  fully  rallied  after  he 
discovered  her  dejiarture ;  and,  when  he  received  a  U-tter 
stating  that  she  would  not  visit  him  again,  he  s[)oke  fre- 
quently of  committing  suicide,  on  the  same  day  of  the 
month  in  which  he  was  married.  His  friends  became 
alarmed,  and  watched  his  movements;  but,  about  two 
o'clock  iu  the  morning  of  the  ITth  of  May,  1S5S,  the  un- 


XXX 


A   FKW    MEMOIRS    OF 


fortunate  gentleman  sliot  himself  while  in  his  room  at 
the  Stevens  House,  after  withdrawing  for  a  moment  or 
two  from  the  presence  of  Mr.  Pliilip  Hone  Anthon,  who 
had  been  in  his  company  all  the  previous  day  and  even- 
ing. The  result  was  fatal.  Two  letters  were  found  upon 
Herbert's  table.  One  was  addressed  to  "  the  coroner," 
and  the  other  to  "  the  Press  of  the  United  States."  They 
read  as  follows : — 


I 


MoJiBAT,  May  16, 1S5S  (three  months  since  the  happiest  day  of  my  life.) 

To  avoid  all  trouble,  and  simplify  your  duty,  I  have  to  state  that 
I  have  taken  my  own  life  by  a  pistol  shot,  no  one  being  privy  to  my 
doing  it,  or  to  my  design. 

My  reason  for  this  act  consists  in  no  remorse  for  what  I  have 
done,  or  left  undone ;  from  no  pecuniarj' pressure,  from  no  inability, 
or  fear  of  inability  to  support  myself,  from  no  weak  fear  of  public 
opinion, -least  of  all  of  New  York,  which  I  do  now,  as  I  always  have 
done,  utterly  disregard  and  despise ;  from  no  embarrassment  arising 
from  any  indebtedness. 

I  have  abundance  of  employment,  and  the  prospect  of  much  more 
— had  the  people  of  Newark,  whom  I  forgive,  from  the  bottom  of  my 
heart,  suffered  me  to  live  honorably  and  happily  in  my  humble  home, 
and  to  amend  my  life  where  it  was  in  error,  in  a  new  sphere,  which  I 
was  honestly  prepared  to  do,  I  might  have  paid  off  all  my  debts,  and 
lived  many  years  among  you,  an  honest,  useful,  and  happy  man.  My 
debts  will  be  paid  from  my  assets  to  the  last  dollar. 

It  was  not,  however,  so  to  be.  My  blood,  and  the  guilt  of  it,  is 
upon  those  women  and  men  who  first  sowed  suspicion,  distrust  and  dis- 
sension between  myself  and  the  sweetest  creature  God  ever  gave,  and 
man  took  away  from  an  unhappy  sinner.  My  own  unhappy  temper 
did  the  rest. 

The  reason  for  this  act,  then,  is  simple.  My  life,  lo'  „■  sad,  soli- 
tary and  weary,  and  without  an  object  beyond  labor  iy  v»vn  a  living 
for  the  day,  has  become  utterly  hopeless,  hateful,  and  unendurable.  A 
hope  had  been  kindled  in  my  heart  again  ;  my  home  had  got  a  light  in 
it  brighter  than  sunshine ;  my  life  had  a  purpose ;  I  loved  her  un- 
utterably; I  was  immeasurably  happy — all  this  has  been  dashed 
down — all  is  lost  forever.  Home — hope — sunshine,  she — let  life  go 
likewise,  since,  henceforth,  it  is  only  another  word  for  t  jrture. 


HKNUY    WILLIAM    IIKRBERT. 


XXXI 


I  would  not  deny  falsely  one  fault  of  which  1  am  conscious,  espe- 
cially at  this  last  moment — I  would  not  deny  that  I  erred  towards  her 
whom  this  day  shows  that  I  loved  more  than  life.  I  did  err,  but  it 
was  hastily.  In  any  act  or  rash  word,  never,  so  may  God  deal  with 
me,  in  thought  or  intimation.  I  never  had  one  word  with  her  abo\it 
money  matters,  nor  cared — scarcely  knew  whether  she  had  or  had 
not  money.  I  never  laid  a  hand  or  finger  on  her  in  wrath  in  my  life. 
What  I  said  or  did  wrongly,  I  repented  on  the  instant — I  have  en- 
deavored to  atone  for  it  ever  since — I  die  for  it  this  day.  I  think,  I 
hope  I  deserve  pity  more  than  blame,  but  I  know  that  I  shall  not  find 
it,  least  of  all  in  Newark. 

I  can  say  truly,  with  my  last  breath,  I  never  wronged  man  or 
woman  in  my  life  by  premeditation,  or  failed  to  ask  pardon,  or  to  make 
atonement  when  I  could  do  so.  I  never  bore  malice  in  my  life.  I 
repent  of  all  my  faults  and  sins,  and  have  endeavored  to  amend  them. 

I  die  in  perfect  peace  and  charity  with  all  men.  I  ask  forgiveness 
of  all  those  against  whom  I  have  sinned.  I  forgive  all  those  who  have 
sinned  against  me,  even  the  woman  who  called  at  my  own  house,  and 
Bet  my  wife's  thoughts  first  against  me — in  proof  of  it  I  am  sure  I 
know  her,  yet  do  not  name  her  name.  I  beg  God  to  forgive  me,  as  I 
forgive  all  my  enemies.  I  die  in  perfect  faith  and  trust  in  my  Re- 
deemer, and  believe  in  him  I  shall  have  eternal  life. 

IIknry  William  IIkkbkkt. 


To  the  Press  of  the  United  States  : 

Before  going  to  my  account,  I  would  say  a  few  words  to  the  Press 
of  America,  and  to  its  conductors,  as  to  men  among  whom  I  have,  for 
many  years,  been  more  or  less  associated. 

I  have  ray  faults,  my  failings  :  I  have  done  my  share  of  evil,  in  my 
life,  as  all  men  have  done ;  perhaps  I  have  done  my  share  of  good, 
likewise. 

Of  my  private  history  few  men  know  any  thing — fewer  still  know 
much — no  one  knows  the  whole.  It  cannot  concern  the  public  to 
know  any  thing.  As  a  writer  let  me  be  judged — as  a  man  let  my 
God  judge  me. 

I  implore  not  praise,  nor  a  favorable  construction — I  implore 
SILENCE.  For  what  I  have  to  account  with  God,  lot  me  account  with 
Sod,  and  not  with  man ;  who  may  uncertainly  perceive  and  distin- 


i 


I    , 


<! 


}i  i 


XXX II 


A  FKW  mi;moii{s  of 


gnisli  facts,  liut  certainly  cannot  perceive  causes  or  divine  motives  and 
intentions. 

I  do  not  even  ask  ciiarity  ;  I  only  implore  silence.  Let  the  <:ood 
that  I  have  done,  if  any.  lie  interred  witli  my  bones;  let  the  evil  also. 
For  the  evil.  I  can  say  jiositiNely.  is  such  as  can  do  no  cvd  after  me. 
I  have  tau;.;ht,  1  lia\e  ineidtaten,  I  have  put  forth  nothin;;  which  I  did 
not  helieve  to  he  };oi»l  and  true.  In  all  my  life  I  liave  written  no 
line  of  which  I  am  ashamed — no  word  whicli  I  desire  to  hlot. 

I  have  done  many  things  wroniily,  many  thinL'S  of  which  I  am 
ashamed  many  tliinjjs  of  which  I  have  sincerely  rejientcd.  many 
thiiiji.s,  under  the  pressure  of  [loverty  and  necessity,  to  which  I  am  not 
nccnstoiiied  hy  my  education,  which,  I  hope,  I  should  not  do  again 
under  any  temptation. 

1  am  very  sorry,  I  have  heen  weak  at  times,  and  have  fallen — 
who  h.is  not  done  so? 

For  justiie  sake,  for  charity's  sake,  for  God's  sake,  let  nic  rest.  I 
bear  an  honoiatde  name;  I  have  stiiven  hard,  in  irreat  trial,  in  great 
temptition,  in  a  foreign  country,  in  a  false  position,  among  niei.  who 
did  not,  perhaps  coul  1  not.  sympalhizj  with  me,  to  keep  it  hon(.rahle, 
As  you  would  have  your  own  names  honored,  and  j'our  sons  preserve 
them  to  you,  [  eh  irg  ?  you,  do  not  d  s'lonor  mine. 

Few  will  miss  me  when  I  am  gone;  piobaldy  none  lament  me — 
so  lie  it !    Only,  I  implore  you,  do  not  misrepresent  and  malign  me. 

Having  said  this,  I  have  said  nearly  all — one  word  more  only — if, 
as  I  presume  will  he  the  case,  my  earnest  and  hope.'ul  appeal  for  re- 
pose he  disregarded — if  the  vultures  of  the  Press  pounce  on  my  cold 
remains,  to  tear  through  them  the  heartsti'ings  of  my  living  relatives 
— to  bl.i/.on  forth  all  my  misdeeds  in  unlilushing  colois  to  the  sun — 
let  none  of  mj-  fiiends — if  I  have  a  friend — stand  forth  to  defend  me. 
Defence  only  provokes  bitterer  attacks,  and  gives  a  keener  tooth  to 
scandal. 

1  die  forgiving  every  man  who  has  wronged  mo.  asking  forgiveness 
of  every  man  whom  1  have  wronged.  1  have  atoned  so  far  as  I  know, 
or  can  atone,  for  every  wrong  I  iiave  ever  done. 

1  leave  the  means,  I  beliexe,  if  they  he  carefully  managed,  to  pay 
every  thing  that  I  owe,  and  peihaps  to  leave  a  small  sniplus.  I  never 
shrank,  while  I  was  alive,  fiom  meeting  the  consequences  of  my  deeds, 
face  to  face.  I  never  .said  a  woid  to  a  man's  back  which  I  would  not 
or  did  not  say^  to  his  face. 

Remeinher  now,  all  yon  that  would  assail  me.  that  my  bach  is 
turned,  forever — that  henceforth,  forever,  I  can  disprove  no  slander 


i 


i 


^ 


W    1   i 


IIKNUY    WH.I.IAM    lIKUni'.UT, 


XXXIII 


lliat  is  spoken  of  me;  tliat  with  ine  no  witness  can  he  ever  more  con- 
IVonleil ;  tliat  from  ni)  acciisalion,  liow  false  soever,  can  I  prove  my- 
self not  jiiiilty.  Of  all  cowardiee,  the  most  Kase  and  erucl  is  to  strike 
llie  (lead,  wlioean  make  no  defence  or  UMswer. 

I  ask  no  praise — do  not  praise  me— prohahly  I  deserve  none. 

I  <leserve  reproach,  donbtless,  for  1  am  mortal,  and  have  sinned. 
Say  so,  tiien,  of  in.",  if  you  say  any  thiiifr,  and  let  my  sins  jro  with  my 
n\orlality  to  His  jii(lf;nu'nt  who  can  tell  not  only  when  and  where,  hut 
Vfhij  the}-  were  committed,  and  how  far  they  have  palliation,  how  far 
they  deserve  pardon. 

Kemiinhcr,  also,  when  yon  jiidirc  me,  that  of  all  lives  mine  lias 
been,  almost,  the  most  nnhajipy.  No  counsellor,  no  friend,  no  country, 
}ia\e  hcen  mine  for  six  and  twenty  weary  years.  Every  hope  h;is  broken 
d'i«n  tnidiT  my  foot  as  soon  as  it  has  touched  it.  Eveiy  spark  of 
liajipiness  has  been  (pienched  as  soon  as  it  has  been  kindled,  if  1  have 
sinned  ninch.  and  sorrowed  much,  I  have  also  lote^l  much — more,  per- 
haps, tiian  I  have  either  sinned  or  sorrowed.  It  is  the  last  diop  that 
overflows  the  gtjldcn  howl,  the  last  tension  that  breaks  the  silver 
cords.  My  last  hope  is  gone — my  last  love  and  my  life  go  together 
and  so  good  night  to 

Henry  IIkubert. 

May  IC,  ISM. 

At  the  fifst  aiinouiicemciit  of  Uerbort's  doiitli,  his 
frit'iuls  iiatiirally  viewed  his  hist  injunction  of  "silence" 
ill  a  positive  and  t'orbichhnj^  sense,  and  tlie  folh>\viiii5 
liasty,  bnt  evidently  lieartt'elt,  remarks  were  iiiiniediately 
written  by  tlie  gifted  and  renowned  "Acorn,"  wliose 
friendship  IIerl)ert  had  had  the  lioiior  of  enjoying.  Snrely 
any  very  bad  man  could  not  have  caused  so  sjtontaneons 
an  expression  of  reiined  and  honorable  feelings  Irom  his 
literuiy  compeers  and  associates,  especially  tViMu  one 
whose  ac(piaintauce  had  existed  for  a  quarter  of  u  cen- 
turv : — 

IIEKRY    WILLIAM    HERBERT. 

"The  evil  that  tnon  ilo  lives  iil^er  them  ; 
The  gddil  is  ot'l  interred  willi  llieir  bDiies." 

The  friends  ^f  II.  W.  Herbert,  in  this  city,  were  apjialled  at  the 
announcement  of  his  death,  a  few  days  since.     The  sad  intelligence 


'I! 


\XX1V 


A    FKW    MKMOIUS    OK 


llM 


,  \ 


fell  Upon  the  heart  of  the  writer,  who  has  known  him  for  over  n 
quarter  of  ii  century,  like  a  withering  mildew,  unci,  were  it  not  for  the 
(lying  injunction  of  poor  Herbert,  that  his  friends  cliould  ren\»in  si- 
lent, my  feeble  pen,  flirectcd  by  the  best  energies  of  my  brain,  fjhould 
reveal  the  deep  sympathies  of  my  heart  for  one  whoso  life,  although 
somewhat  wayward,  was  nevertheless  marked  by  many  virtues  and 
bright  deeds. 

Henry  William  Herbert,  the  brilliant  genius  and  rare  scholar,  is 
in  his  grave ! 

"  After  life's  fitful  fuvor  lio  sleeps  well." 

For  charity's  sake,  let  not  the  sanctity  of  that  grave  be  Jisecrated  by 
heartless  or  unfeeling  scribblers,  simply  to  feed  or  gratify  the  appetites 
or  morbid  tastes  of  those  whose  wicked  and  malignant  slanders  were 
mainly  instrumental  in  wrecking  so  bright  a  mind  !  After  frenzying 
that  once  noble  intellect,  and  sending  its  owner  unbidden  into  the 
presence  of  his  Maker,  may  we  not  hope,  for  humanity's  sake,  that 
the  portals  of  the  grave  may  be  a  barrier  against  the  poisonous  tongue 
of  the  earth's  ;^reatest  pestilence — the  slamferer  ! 

For  the  sake  of  those  whose  veins  t  i.  ■  kindred  blood,  and  whose 
hearts  and  spirits  arc  now  bowed  down  lo  the  ditst,  forbear,  I  implore 
you,  and  no  longer  aim  your  poisoned  and  malignant  arrows  of  re- 
venge at  the  dead,  through  the  already  lacerated  spirits  of  the  living! 
But  let  the  f  lults  and  the  weaknesses  of  him,  whose  earthly  career 
met  60  melancholy  and  fearful  an  end,  slumber  in  silence  with  his 
ashes  in  the  tomb  !  For  mercy's  sake,  let  his  kind  acts  and  charitable 
deeds,  only,  rest  in  the  minds  of  his  fellow  men,  for  many  such  acts 
and  deeds  are  known  to  the  writer,  which  will  assuredly  be  placed  to 
the  credit  of  him  who  has  gone  to  his  account,  at  the  final  judgment 
day.  Were  it  not  for  violating  the  last  request  of  this  extraordinary 
man,  I  wotdd  reveal  many  bright  and  manly  characteristics ;  but  the 
observance  of  a  request,  made  almost  with  his  expiring  breath,  for- 
bids, and  tells  me  to  drop  a  curtain  over  his  grave,  on  which  to  write 
in  letters  of  gold — Silence!  Peace  to  the  ashes  of  Henry  William 
Heubeut ! 


AOORN. 


Boston,  May  22, 1S58. 


It  is  of  such  a  man  as  Herbert  we  now  proceed  to 
speak      Among  the  private  letters  left  to  Mr.  Anthon, 


I 


,, 


iiKN'in'  wir.r.tAM  iiKuiiKitr. 


XXXV 


wliom  ho  np]M)into(l  ns  lii's  oxocutor,  was  tlio  fVillowin;?, 
addivsscd  to  ^^l•.  I'Atisdii,  a  ri<;lit  trusty  and  wcU-holovi-tl 
iK'iirliliDr,  in  Xcwurk: — 


^Iv  Dicvn  Mii.Ks  I'Ansox:  The  timo  1ms  romp,  and  I  call  upon  you 
with  the  last  wonl-t  of  a  ilyin,'»  coniitrymaii  to  come  and  perform  your 
promise.     My  last  friend,  do  not  fail  me. 

Wiien  yon  receive  this  I  shall  he  lyinpt  dead  in  the  cemetery.  I 
could  not  he  easy  in  N'ew  York,  and  \  must  not  he  buried  in  the  Pot- 
ter's Fiehl  or  hy  charity. 

Have  me  dresseil  in  the  clothes  which  T  hiivo  put  in  the  carpet  hnjr, 
with  the  little  packet  1  have  sewn  to  the  shirt  upon  my  heart, 
and  the  pin-cushion  with  "  Herbert "  pricked  upon  it,  luider  my  head 
— a  plain  oaken  coffin,  with  this  inscription  only:  "Henry  AVilliam 
Herbert — aj^ed  ol." 

Let  me  Ije  buried  in  your  lot ;  send  the  coffin  down  by  the  steamer ; 
no  fimeral  and  no  pomp.  I  send  a  note  to  Mr.  Shackleford;  he  will 
|ierforn\  the  .service. 

I  enclo.se  a  draft  for  ten  pounds  sterlin<»  on  my  sister,  which  will 
paj-  all  expenses;  I  have  written  to  her.  Come  the  moment  you  re- 
ceive this,  or  you  will  be  too  late,  and  they  will  thrust  me  into  some  hole 
away  from  humanity.  She  has  refused  all  reconciliation  absolutely 
and  forever,  but  she  is  not  to  blame,  and  it  is  my  last  request  that  no 
friend  of  mine  will  blame  her  or  defend  me.  except  to  say  what  I  solemn- 
ly swear  with  my  dying  breath,  that  I  did  not  marry  her  for  money — 
that  I  did  not  know  when  I  married  her,  and  do  not  know  noir^ 
whether  she  has  any  money  or  how  much — that  I  never  had  a  word 
or  dispute  with  her  about  money,  and  never  said  one  unkind  word 
until  that  Monday,  when  I  threatened  my  life  if  she  would  not  tell 
me  who  had  accused  me  to  her  falsely. 

God  forgive  and  God  bless  her !  I  forgive  all  men  who  have 
wronged  me,  and  ask  forgiveness  of  all  whom  I  have  wronged.  Every 
shilling  T  owe  in  America  will  be  paid  from  the  lease  of  the  house, 
and  the  books  I  leave  behind  me,  ready  to  be  published. 

Give  my  best  parting  love  to  all  my  friends,  think  of  mo  sometimes 
as  a  most  miserable  man,  yet  your  true  friend. 


IIenry  Wm.  Hkrbkrt,  Stevens  Home. 


l\\ 


Maj  15, 1858. 


VOL.   I. 


XXXVI 


A  rr.w  Mi:M(nKs  ok 


I 


T  wish  to  Imvc  ii  vi-rv  sniivll,  voiy  plain  liendstoiic,  of  liiltic  FuII«, 
or  Huilevillo  hUiiic,  witli  lliis  insciiption : 

lIKNltY  WII-I.IAM  IIKKBKIIT, 
of 

ENOLAND, 

Agt'd    5 1     years. 
Infi  Ikiaxim  im. 

Will  yon  take  care  of  Vixen?  She  has  been  my  only  comfort, 
^lie  has  never  left  me  for  one  moment.  I  am  sure  she  knows  I  am 
wretched.     Ood  bless  you  anil  your  wife ! 

Hero  wo  may  perceive  liow  hnively  the  fine  8|)irit  of 
''Fniiik  Forester"  coiitiniii's  to  shine  out,  even  from  tlio 
sluittertd  niiiid  of  II.  W.  Ilei'bei't.  Ho  cnmiot  hvnv  the 
tlioii^Iit  of  I)eiii<if  buried  "  iiwivy  from  IiumiUiity."  jN'o, 
iiKJeed.  Then,  with  regard  to  poor  little  Vixen,  (a  hlack- 
nnd  tan  favorite  ainonj^  his  dogs,)  he  is  quite  sin-e  that 
"siiK  knows  I  am  wretched.''  Another  of  the  private 
letters,  directed  to  one  of  Herbert's  most  esteemed  friends, 
reads  as  follows,  and  shows  the  chivalry  of  a  spirit  which 
cuuld  not  boar  to  bo  suspected  : — 

"Mv  Dkar What  is  df)iip  is  done  and  cannot  bo  undone.    1 

know  you  will  blame  and  probably  despise  me  ;  but  the  eticnuth  of 
one  man  is  the  weakness  of  another,  and  I  could  not  endure  the  agony 
1  have  been  suffering. 

If  ever  I  have  vexed,  wronged,  or  olTendcd  you,  I  sincerely  and 
humbly  beg  your  pardon. 

As  the  last  request  of  a  dying  man,  T  entreat  you,  on  account  of 
this,  not  to  throw  up  my  ad'airs,  but  to  endeavor  to  settle  them  fully. 
1  am  satisfied  that  with  the  rent  of  the  Cedars  anl  my  own  goods, 
&c.,  there  will  be  enough  to  \\^y  every  thing  that  I  owe  on  earth. 

1  have  the  manuscript  of  three  books  all  realy  for  the  |)re  s,  which 
ought  to  produce  at  least  §1000.  and  I  think  that  in  view  of  this  act 

of  mine,  good  or  bad,  they  would  sell  even  now — 

******** 

I  annure  you  that  I  have  received  a  Utter  from  my  leloved  wife. 


III:NKV    Wlt.IIAM    IIK!lIli:i{T. 


XXN\  :i 


wliioli  fxnmrnli's  lur  (<l'  nil  Miiinc,  cxci'iit  fur  ovcm  ndulDnsnos. 
stiisilivciuh.',  ..:iil  II  wt'tik  I'ciir  of  iiii',  who  wmilil  Imvc  (lied  a  hiiiiil  nl 
tliiH's  iiiiluT  tliiiii  lianii  liiT.  I  fiitrcut  ymi  us  my  lust  iviiiusl,  iidt 
only  not  to  s|Kiik,  Imt  not  to  think  iinkinrl!y  of  lu-r. 

Never  week  to  fk'fcnd  my  moniory  at  any  wiiit  to  hiT  discrcilit — 
only  yriu  can  as»ii  t.  for  I  oonsnltid  yon  I  ef<iri'  \\v  wvro  man  icd,  and 
yon  know  it.  that  I  iit'\tr  <  and,  much  h  hs  knew,  or  iminiri'd  any 
ihinjt  ahont  her  property  or  trouhloil  her  nl)ont  it. 

Iiemeni'ier,  always,  tliat  I  love  hei'  heyoiid  any  thin;,'  on  earth.  I 
would  evin  ask  you.  if  it  ever  lie  in  your  power,  to  protict  and  assist 
lier  as  my  heloved  widow.         ♦  ♦  »  ♦  ♦ 

Fare  you  well,  old  friend  j  think  ."ometimcs  of  old  days,  and  your 
friend, 

IICNItY  W.M.  IIkUUEIIT. 


Tlio  <;oiiori.l  dirccfiniis  tor  tlio  fiiiioral  (wliicli  had  an 
attc'iKlaiKH"  (if  tlu'  lii^'Iii'st  r('s|K'etal>ility)  wiTo  taitliriiUy 
obeyed.  Tlio  corpse  was  taken  to  "the  Ceihirs,"  and  hero 
thi'  picture  of  (hsohitioii,  caused  hy  tlio  sudden  sioppiigo 
of  all  "  Frank  Foiester's  "  little  plans  of  comfort  and  use- 
fulness, seemed  sad  indeed.  Hero  it  was  that  ho  had 
hoped  to  entwine  the  jessamine  of  amiahility  and  the  lin- 
den of  conjujral  ail'ectiou  aiiionj^  the  cedars  of  j,^lory  which 
tower  to  the  skies.  But  now,  under  a  clouded  aherration 
of  his  usual  life-hearty  intellect,  our  own  well-heloved 
"Frank  Forester "  had  thrown  hiiuseif  into  the  arms  of 
]Jeath,  as  if  irresistihly  impelled  hy  the  chastening  rod 
of  a  sorrow  which  was  moi-e  than  ho  ct>uld  endure: — 


ii. 

which 
his  act 


"Dear,  henuto  >ms  Detith!  thou  jewel  of  the  just, 
Sliiuinjf  nowhere  hut  in  the  dark  I 
AVh.'it  mysteries  do  lie  heyoud  tiiy  dust, 
Could  man  out-louk  the  mark  !  " 

As  the  deceased  gentleman  was  himself  the  son  of  a 
minister  in  the  Kpiscopal  communion,  auvl  well  knew  that 
tlio  rnhrics  of  the  "  I'ook  of  Common  Prayer"  forhid  any 


1   ,  1 

'1 

J 

i! 

\\     ^i 

XXXVIU 


A   FEW   MEMOIRS   OF 


minister  under  that  discipline  to  perform  funeral  services 
at  the  grave  of  persons  who  may  liave  committed  suicide, 
the  proceedings  on  the  present  occasion  were  somewhat 
novel.  Eev.  Mr.  Shackleford,  the  clergyman  officiating 
at  the  marriage  of  Herbert  with  his  last  wife,  was  pres- 
ent; and,  after  the  company  had  taken  a  last  look  at  the 
corpse,  the  reverend  gentleman  alluded  to  the  above  cir- 
cumstances, and  regretted  that  his  obligations  of  duty 
forbade  him  to  appear  in  any  other  capacity  than  as  a 
friend  of  the  deceased,  whose  faults  (he  felt  sure)  were  all 
on  the  surface  of  his  character,  hut  whose  virtues  were  more 
numerous  than  could  he  generally  known.  All  true  friends 
of  the  dear,  departed  Herbert,  would  therefore  follow  the 
remains  slowly  and  silently  to  the  grave,  and  see  them 
slowly  and  silently  interred,  with  only  those  expressions 
which  might  be  suggested  or  occur  from  a  mute  sorrow. 
Expressing  a  hope  that  the  God  above,  who  alone  can 
judge  of  sincerity  of  heart,  would  have  mercy  upon  the 
soul  of  the  deceased,  and  of  all  those  now  present,  the 
reverend  gentleman  concluded  his  remarks,  and  a  silent 
sorrow  pervaded  the  entire  assemblage. 

The  procession  passed  through  the  gate  by  which  the 
grounds  of  Mount  Pleasant  Cemetery,  adjoining  "the  Ce- 
dars," are  entered.  It  was  at  this  spot  where  Herbert 
and  his  wife  shared  that  kiss  which  became  a  parting  kiss, 
and  where,  according  to  the  letter  left  for  Mr.  I' Anson, 
Herbert  expected  to  die.  Some  green  twigs  from  the 
neighboring  trees  were  sadly  but  hopefully  thrown  upon 
the  coffin,  and  the  assemblage  departed. 


"  Youth  flies,  life  decays,  even  hope  is  o'ercast ; 
No  more  with  love's  former  devotion  we  sue : 
He  spreads  his  young  wing,  he  retires  with  the  blact; 
The  shroud  of  affection  is  love's  last  adieu  I" 


HENKV    WILLIAM   mCRlJp:UT. 


XXXIX 


Probably  no  man  ever  lived  who  was  more  likely  to 
realize  tlie  poetical  measure  of  misery  indicated  by  such 
a  case,  as  we  find  it  expressed  in  Anacreontic  lyrics,  and 
familiarized  in  Byronian  lines  than  Herbert : — 


"  Oh  I  mark  you  yon  piiir :  in  the  sunshine  of  youth 

Love  twined  round  tlieir  childhood  liis  flowers  as  they  grew ; 
Tliey  flourish  awhile  in  the  season  of  truth, 
Till  chill'd  by  the  winter  of  love's  last  adieu  1" 


"In  vain  with  endearments  we  soothe  the  sad  heart, 
In  vain  do  we  vow  for  an  age  to  be  true ; 
The  chance  of  an  hour  may  command  us  to  part, 
Or  death  disunite  us  in  love's  last  adieu ! " 


i 


Tlie  circumstances  attondiuij  Herbert's  second  mar- 
riage  were  much  more  romantic  than  those  of  the  first, 
but  we  prefer  to  leave  these  matters  for  the  developments 
of  time  and  legal  investigation.  "We  feel  free  to  say, 
however,  that  Herbert  has  been  "  moi'e  sinned  against 
than  sinning."  As  for  Iiis  striking  a  woman,  or  caring 
about  her  money,  that  might  have  been  possible — when 
sky-larks  run  a  quarter-race  or  eagles  play  at  skittles. 

Notwithstanding  Herbert's  own  estimation  of  the  feel- 
ings entertained  towards  him  in  Newark,  and  around  the 
neighborhood  of  liis  residence,  there  need  be  no  doubt 
(and  it  is  a  matter  of  pride  to  observe  the  fact  now)  that 
he  was  mistaken  on  tliat  matter,  so  far  as  regards  the 
respectable  portion  of  tlie  population.  It  was  a  ]iart  ot 
the  great  error  wliich  his  mind  labored  under.  The  news 
of  his  death  was  received  with  expressions  of  general 


!  .1 


■'!      ) 


Xl 


A   FEW   MEMOIRS    OF 


regret,  as  well  as  caiisiii";  the  grief  of  those  associates 
who  might  well  say,  in  old  Tloinaii  style, — 

"  Friends,  I  owe  more  tears 
To  this  dead  man  tlian  thou  slialt  See  nie  pay." 


II    |i 


i      i 


\      t 


Mr.  Thns.  T.  Kinney,  the  talented  editor  of  the  "New- 
ark Daily  Advertiser,"  seems  to  have  been  a  constant  and 
particnlar  friend  of  the  lamented  IIerl)ert.  The  most 
authentic  statements  of  Herbert's  last  troubles  may  be 
found  in  the  columns  of  that  admirable  journal,  and  Mr. 
Kinney  now  has  in  his  possession  the  little  black-and-tan 
terrier.  Vixen,  poor  "Frank  Forester's"  true  friend,  who 
remained  faithful  to  the  last,  wiiming  from  him  the  title 
of  his  "  only  comfort."  Many  persons  connected  with  the 
New  Yoi'k  book-trade  reside  in  that  part  of  New  Jersey, 
and  were,  more  or  less,  acquainted  with  Herbert,  but  we 
know  of  no  one  who  has  not  acknowledged  a  pang  of 
grief  OTi  learning  the  untimely  end  of  "  Fraidc  Forester," 
the  gay  and  rollicking  preceptor  of  Young  America  in 
the  "  j^ntlo  science  of  woodcraft,"  that  science  which  is 
always  ancient  and  ever  new  to  youthful  hearts  and  em- 
ulative spirits. 

The  omission  of  certain  ceremonies  at  the  grave  of 
poor  Herbert  may  furnish  some  satisfaction  to  the  vul- 
tures of  vituperation.  Herbert  well  knew  this.  His 
words  to  Rev.  Mr.  Shackleford  were,  "Do  the  best  you 
can  for  me."  But,  that  Herbert's  friends  were  numerous 
and  enthusiastic  in  the  place  of  his  residence,  may  be  in- 
ferred from  the  fact  that  when  Rev.  Henry  B.  Sherman, 
Rector  of  Christ  Church,  Belleville,  N.  J.,  offered  to 
second  any  judicious  compromise  which  might  be  sug- 
gested to  save  Herbert's  body  from  being  con-;igned  to 
the  grave  without  some  token  of  Christian  burial,  the 
reverend  gentleman's  kindness  met  with  a  prompt  response 


IllCXliV    WILLIAM    IIICKBERT. 


XH 


as  a  kindness  (for  lils  action  was  courteously  dispensed 
witli),  by  a  lartre  number  of  the  most  influential  citizens 
of  Newark  and  vicinity,  as  soon  as  they  understood  the 
circumstances  of  the  case.  A  testimonial  to  Air.  Sher- 
man was  subscribed  for,  and  wo  append  the  document  as 
a  suflicient  refutation  of  the  absurd  slander  that  Herbert 
lacked  friends  in  the  jdace  where  he  was  best  known. 
The  signers  are  all  fair  "representative  men,"  well  rpiali- 
lied  to  speak  fur  Newark : — 


The  subscribers,  desirous  of  showing  tlieir  regard  for  the  Rev. 
Henry  B.  Sbernitm,  of  Belleville,  and  es|)eeially  their  adniinitiou  of 
his  conduct  at  the  funeral  of  the  late  Henry  W.  Herbert,  in  his  wil- 
lingness to  perform  some  Christian  ceremony  over  the  grave  of  tiie 
deceased,  cheerfully  contribute  to  the  amount  necessary  to  procure  a 
suitable  testimonial. 


John  Morrison, 
Wni.  T.  Mercer, 
1    H.  Dawes, 
F.  E.  Berier, 

E.  A.  Carman, 
Geo.  B.  llalsted, 

Alex.  X.  Dougherty,  M.  D., 

F.  W.  Rieord, 
Thos.  B.  Peddie, 
Tiios.  T.  Kinney, 
A.  Biirelow, 

J.  P.  Pennington, 
Lewis  C.  Grover, 
J.  D.  Orton, 
Cornelius  W.  Tolles, 
J.  Callaway, 

G.  Grant,  k.  D., 
Bethuel  L.  Dodd,  M.  D., 
Silas  Merchant, 


Wm.  S.  Faitoute, 

I.  M.  Andruss, 

Abram  Coles,  M.  D., 

James  Ross, 

R.  B.  llathorn, 

Cortlandt  Parker, 

O.  H.  Halsted,  Jr., 

H.  B.  Miller, 

A.  Schalk, 

H.  Schalk, 

C.  T.  Zeiglcr, 

A.  M.  W.  Ball, 

T.  Seaman, 

Morris  R.  Hamilton, 

N.  N.  Halsted, 

J.  A.  Pennington, 

Richmond  Ward, 

A.  Jackson  Drake,  U.  S.  N., 

J.  Soutliard. 


A  beautifully  bound  copy  of  Herbert's  "  Ilorso  and 
Horsemanship  of  America,"  his  most  elaborated  and  com- 


1  ' 

:  ' 

*'i    ■ 

1 

i 


Mii 


A   FEW    MK.MOIKS   OF 


plete  work,  one  of  tlie  most  splendid  books  produced  by 
tlic  arts  of  printing,  engraving,  and  binding, — acknowl- 
edged to  be  tlie  best  woi'lc  of  the  kind  in  the  world, 
and  the  most  successful  publication  of  its  class  by  sub- 
scription,— was  presented  to  Mr.  Sherman  as  the  most 
apjiropriate  and  acceptable  gift  they  could  select,  and  the 
presentation  was  accompanied  by  a  spirited  and  suitable 
letter  from  Mr.  F.  W.  liicord,  cliairnum  of  the  committee 
having  the  matter  in  charge.  The  Eev.  Henry  B.  Sher- 
man's letter  of  acknowledgment  does  him  great  honor; 
and  the  v.hole  proceedings  show  that  both  national  feel- 
ing and  Christian  sentiment  were  warmly  enlisted  on  be- 
half of  the  unfortunate  deceased,  notwithstanding  his 
many  eccentricities.  Let  it  not  be  said  on  either  side  of 
the  Atlantic,  for  it  is  not  tnie,  that  Americans  ever  failed 
to  reward  the  talents  of  "  Frank  Forestei'." 

What  was  Herbert  is  now  "  Frank  Forester,"  for  ever, 
in  American  literature.  The  latter  was  not  exactly  "  the 
Persian  rose  "  but  "  the  flower  that  grew  beside  it,"  and 
now  we  can  hardly  tell  which  most  attracts  the  admira- 
tion of  the  world. 

There  is  a  grand  moral  to  be  drawn  from  Herbert's 
untimely  tate.  It  teaches  us  that  if  even  he,  out  among 
the  fields  with  his  dog  and  gun,  or  cantering  along  the 
I'oad  with  a  free-breathing  courser,  or  tickling  the  trout 
out  of  their  native  streams,  even  he — the  all-conquering 
"  Frank  Forester " — must  succumb  to  consuming  cares 
and  hopeless  passions,  how  requisite  it  is  for  all  of  us  to 
be  on  our  guard  against  falling  into  a  similar  abnormal 
state,  by  patronizing  a  due  sluire  of  field  sports,  or  at  least 
some  stated  relaxations  from  business  by  the  aid  of  travel 
and  agreeable  society.  To  professiomil  and  literary  men, 
especially,  Herbert's  case  is  full  of  warning,  and  their 
matrimonial  partners  would  do  well  to  learn  that  society 
ha;  "ri<i;hts"  as  well  as  individuals.     A  more  conserva- 


HENRY    WILLIAM   IIKRBERT. 


xliii 


tive  tone  of  action  seems  needed  by  all  classes,  and  the 
cultivation  of  suitable  out-door  sports  for  the  people  is  a 
subject  worthy  of  the  wisdom  of  a  second  Washingtox. 

Herbert  had  all  the  self-sustaining  hardihood  of  a 
Dante  with  the  fertile  aptitude  of  a  Brougham.  But, 
look  at  the  dreadful  cost  of  such  effoi'ts.  See  the  morbid 
irritability  of  Johnson,  Pope,  or  Byron.  See  the  tumble- 
down helplessness  of  Tom  Moore,  and  even  the  carefully 
conservative  Bob  Soiithey,  in  their  old  days.  Ilark  to 
the  plaintive  cries  from  Tasso's  cell.  Observe  the  lierce 
insanity  of  Collins  or  Swift.  What  should  we  say  of  Boe, 
or  Lippard,  or  Xorth  ?  What  should  we  say  of  those  who 
Eve  said  to  "die  young"  in  the  vain  attempt  at  literary 
glory?  Our  own  Tuckerman  has  judiciously  observed 
that  "God  is  not  less  worshipped  by  select  intelligences, 
thi'ouyh  fidelity  to  the  natural  laivs,  than  by  celebrating 
his  glory  in  the  triumphs  of  art."  The  sad  case  of  Hugh 
Miller  must  be  fresh  in  the  minds  of  our  readers,  as  that 
of  the  great  devotional  geologist  who  lately  shot  himself 
in  Scotland,  while  in  his  studio,  surrounded  by  fame,  easy 
circumstances,  and  the  consolations  of  religion.  And  yet, 
so  dreadful  are  the  life-exhausting  effects  of  severe  study, 
that  only  the  very  thoughtless  would  dare  to  sit  in  judg- 
ment on  its  unfortunate  victims. 

To  the  credit  of  Herbert,  "  Our  Own  Frank  Forester," 
we  may  say  that  his  iield  si)orts  did  save  him  from 
dwindling  down  to  a  misanthrope.  Let  us  be  thankful 
that  he  did  not  reach  that  deplorable  degree  of  mental 
degradation.  A  lover  of  Nature  cannot  harbor  a  very 
bad  heart.  Hence  we  find  that  Herbert  did  not  leave  his 
ever-faithful  "Vixen"  unprovided  for;  and,  so  far  from 
being  any  thing  like  a  misanthrope,  he  begs  and  prays 
that  he  may  not  be  buried  "  away  from  humanity." 

That  Herbert's  intellectual  powers  had  been  by  no 
means  impaired,  but  were  on  an  increase  of  ability,  can 


i  i 


■i! 


xllv 


A   Fi:\V   MEMOIRS    OF 


I 


li 


.1    H 

'1-  I 


,1 !     i  i 


be  easily  seen  in  liis  latest  writings.  Among  these  we 
may  mention  the  beautiful  story  of  "  Omemees,"  which 
he  commenced  in  "Porter's  Spirit,  of  the  Times,"  wlien 
that  admirable  sporting  paper  was  started  by  Messrs. 
Porter  and  Wilkes,  in  September,  185G.  The  o})ening 
paragraph  of  this  interesting  tale  is  one  of  the  finest  de- 
scriptions of  the  loveliness  of  a  September  morning, 
among  American  scenery,  that  ever  was  written  in  j)i'ose. 
The  whole  contribution  reads  as  if  its  author  was  anxious 
to  repay  the  fostering  kindness  of  his  old  friend  of  "  the 
Spirit;"  and  W.  T.  Porter's  associate  editor,  George 
Wilkes,  very  properly  called  public  attention  to  it,  in 
their  first  number,  as  a  "loud,  ringing  peal  from  the  cla- 
rion of  Frank  Forester."  And  so  it  is,  now  ringing  in  our 
ears  more  sweetly  sonorous  than  ever,  inspiring  renewed 
reverberations  every  year  among  those  hearts  which  can 
enjoy  the  glories  of  our  September  landscapes. 

Perha])s  the  day  may  not  be  far  distant  when  the  im- 
portance of  "  condition  "  will  be  familiarly  understood  to 
have  quite  as  much  influence  upon  mankind  as  upon  the 
lower  animals.  If  Herbert  had  had  the  timely  benefit  of 
good  medical  advice,  or — what  is  much  more  rarely  found 
— the  wisdom  of  docility  in  obedience  to  its  teachings,  he 
might,  in  all  probability,  so  far  as  human  calculation 
could  tell,  have  been  spai'ed  for  a  longer  and  moi-e  useful 
life,  cheering  us  with  the  continued  creations  of  his 
charming  pen. 

Scarcely  any  class  of  men  are  so  a]^t  to  "  break  down  " 
as  public  writers.  Critical  and  splenetic  by  acquired 
habits,  if  not  by  nature,  engaged  in  a  sedentary  employ- 
ment, and  continually  forcing  the  activity  of  their  cere- 
bral region,  all  at  once,  when,  perhaps,  their  most  intimate 
friends  may  not  think  of  the  real  cause,  the  balance  of 
judgment — or,  what  amounts  to  tlie  same  in  practice,  "  the 
blood  and  judgment  are  not  well  conuniiigled  " — is  thus 


HKNKV   WILLIAM   UKRUKKT. 


xlv 


set  asiMe.  This  inisfortunc  nuiy  or  may  not  assume  a  very 
decisive  or  sutklen  character  in  outward  appearance,  any 
more  than  otlier  forms  of  monomania  need  necessarily  be 
violent  in  their  demonstrations.  But,  it  is  at  work,  nev- 
ertheless, and  interfering  with  the  normal  coherence  of 
ideas,  especially  if  any  aciimony  of  the  blood  is  allowed 
to  remain  long  enough  for  the  creation  of  nujrbid  humors. 
In  all  the  arrangements  made  by  Herbert  for  his  suicide, 
funeral,  etc.,  the  usual  vigor  of  his  intellect  expresses 
itself  in  the  renuirkably  precise  and  deliberate  directions 
he  so  rapidly  gave  in  writing.  He  is  "all  right,"  except 
on  the  "one  idea" — and  this  wrong  idea  (without  being, 
perhaps,  perceptible  to  unpractised  observers)  was  the 
result  of  a  morbid  condition — gradually  superinducing  an 
abnornud  mentality — like  the  last  efibrts  of  an  exijiring 
flame,  which  finally  destroys  itself. 

There  need  be  no  doubt  that  if  Herbert's  brain,  plexus, 
arterial  system,  etc.,  had  been  restored  to  their  usuidly 
harmonized  degree  of  "condition,"  so  noble  and  gifted  a 
mind — instead  of  wrongfully  supposing  itself  to  be  in  the 
right — would  never  have  committed  the  sad  error  of  judg- 
ment we  now  60  deeply  deplore.  The  peculiar  phase  of 
phi'enitis  he  labored  under  appears  to  have  been  quite 
sufficient  for  gradually  taking  away  his  moral  accounta- 
bility. The  lesson  is  sometimes  taught  to  the  most  gifted 
minds — before  they  leave  this  sublunary  sphere — that 
Heaven  is  our  only  Friend,  our  only  Refuge,  our  oidy 
Saviour.  Let'  us,  therefore,  fervently  hope  that  hunum 
charity  will  leave  poor  Herbert's  final  error  to  the  oidy 
Power  capable  of  judging  that  and  all  his  other  failings. 

These  tailings — or  whatever  they  may  be  termed — are 
not  mentioned  here  from  any  morbid  desire  to  ])arade 
them  in  connection  with  so  bright  an  examjde ;  for,  be  it 
remembered  that,  down  to  the  last  of  Herbert's  instruc- 
tive life,  the  very  manner  of  the  unfortunate — most  unfor- 


1.--8 


W, 


\m 


xlvi 


HENRY    WILLIAM   IIEUBEKT. 


ill 


:':    ll 


i 


tunate — gentleman's  death  is  one  more  additional  pi'oof 
of  how  much  we  all  need  greater  regard  for  out-of-door 
sports,  conversational  hilarity,  or  heavenly  aspirations, 
while  less  attention  should  be  given  to  corroding  cares, 
passionate  impulses,  or  rash  conclusions.  We  have  merely 
endeavored  to  impartially  describe  that  "Frank  Forester" 
whose  gentle,  but  proud  spirit,  scorned  the  vulgarity  of 
carving  his  name  upon  the  rising  tree  of  American  great- 
ness in  any  manner  that  could  ])ossib]y  injure  any  other 
person,  but  has  derived  his  principal  pleasure  while  living 
— and  liis  most  glorious  fame  after  death — from  the  fact 
that  as  soon  as  we  take  up  one  of  his  books,  that  noble 
spirit — sweetly  responsive  to  our  own — seems  to  take  us 
also  by  the  hand,  leading  us  forth  into  forest  wild  or 
homestead  beautiful,  where  we  may  willingly  acknowl- 
edge the  magic  sway  of  tlio  original  and  creative  "Frank 
Forester "  himself,  while  he  guides  our  field  sports,  sug- 
gests our  healthy  pastimes,  teaches  ns  to  tread  lightly 
amoi.g  those  beautiful  flowers  which  the  poets  well  de- 
scribe as  "the  scriptures  of  the  earth,"  or  imparts  an  ad- 
ditional tone  of  elegance  to  those  charming  family  circles 
where  eyes  of  light  and  forms  of  beauty  come  forth  to 
grace  the  scene. 

Much  more — very  much  more — might  be  written  by 
pens  competent  or  worthy  to  discuss  tiie  memoirs  of 
Henry  William  Herbert.  Less  we  could  not  have  said, 
in  ordinary  justice.  After  all,  while  conscious  of  the 
comparative  incojnpleteness  of  our  effort,  and  we  have 
said  our  say,  or  sung  our  lay,  as  best  we  may, 

"  The  rest — let  Sorrow  say." 


OF  Tua 


•ill 
Ml 


FIELD  SPORTS 


UNITED  STATES  AND  BRITISH  PROVINCES. 


■')i 
§1 


N  the  occasion  of  commencing,  it 

is  now  several  years  ago,  a  series 

jv^y  of  papers    in    a  leading   monthly 

" "*  magazine, "  On  the  Game  of  North 


America,  its  nomenclature,  habits, 
haunts,  and  seasons ;  with  hints 
on  the  science  of  woodcraft" — I 
introduced  the  subject,  by  the  fol- 
lowing general  remari<s,  and  it  ap- 
pears to  me  that,  inasmuch  as  they  are  not  only  still  applicable, 
but  have  in  effect  become  more  and  more  evidently  true,  owing 
to  the  lapse  of  time  since  their  publication,  during  which  the 
evils  complained  of  have  increased  tenfold,  I  cannot  do  better 
than  repeat  them,  as  entirely  germane  to  the  matter,  and  as 
aptly  introductory  to  that  which  is  to  follow. 

"  There  is,  perhaps,"  I  remarked,  "  no  country  in  the  world 
which  presents,  to  the  sportsman,  so  long  a  catalogue  of  the 


1 1 


lil 


FRANK    FOKEfiTER's    FIELD    SPORTS. 


f  »:■ 


!    'i 


'ii 

;■   I 


choicest  f^iinie,  -whctlicr  of  fur,  fin,  or  feather,  as  the  United 
States  of  North  America  ;  there  is  none,  probably,  which  counts 
more  numerous,  or  more  ardent,  devotees  ;  there  is  none,  cer- 
tainly, in  which  the  wide-spread  passion  for  the  chase  can  be 
indulj^ed,  under  so  few  restrictions,  and  at  an  expense  so  trilling. 

"  Yet  all  this,  notwithstanding,  it  is  to  be  regretted  greatly  that 
there  is  no  country  in  which  the  nomenclature  of  these  fcrti  na- 
tiirce,  these  roving  denizens  of  wood,  wold  and  water,  is  so  con- 
fused and  unscie;iti(ic  ;  none,  in  which  their  habits  are  so  little 
known,  and  their  seasons  so  little  regarded  ;  none,  in  which  the 
gentle  craft  of  Venerieis  so  often  degraded  into  mere  pot-hunting; 
and  none,  in  which,  as  a  natural  consequence,  the  game  that 
swarmed  of  yore  in  all  the  fields  and  forests,  in  all  the  lakes, 
rivers,  bays,  and  creeks  of  its  vast  territory,  are  in  such  peril 
of  becoming  speedily  extinct. 

"That  in  a  nation,  every  male  inhabitant  of  which  is,  with 
but  rare  exceptions,  a  liunter,  and  ready  with  the  gun  almost 
beyond  example,  this  should  be  the  case,  can  be  explained  only 
by  the  fact  that,  as  I  have  said  before,  little  is  known  generally 
of  the  habits  of  game  ;  and  that  the  rarest  and  choicest  species 
are  slaughtered  inconsiderately,  not  perhaps  wantonly,  at  such 
times  and  in  such  manners,  as  are  rapidly  causing  them  to  disap- 
pear and  become  extinct. 

"  That  such  is  the  case,  can  be  proved  in  a  few  words,  and 
by  reference  to  a  few  examjjles.  The  most  evident,  perhaps, 
of  these,  is  the  absolute  extinction  of  that  noble  bird,  the  Heath- 
llen,  or  Pinnated  Grouse,  Tetuao  Cupido,  on  Long  Island, 
where,  within  the  memory  of  our  cider  sportsmen,  they  might 
be  taken  in  al)undance  at  the  proper  season,  but  where  not  a 
solitary  bird  has  been  seen  for  years.  In  the  pines  on  the  south- 
western shores  of  New  .lersey,  and  in  the  oak-barrens  of  north- 
eastern Pennsylvania,  the  same  birds  were  also  plentiful  within 
a  few  years  ;  but  now  they  are  already  rurei;  aves  ;  and,  after  a 
few  more  returns  of  the  rapidly  succeeding  seasons,  they  will  be 
entirely  unknown  in  their  old-accustomed  places." 

The  same  thing  is  the  case,  in  a  yet  greater  degree,  with  r«- 


INTIlODfl  TOIIV    01lsr:i!VA  TIONS. 


13 


card  to  the  Wild  Tuikny.  It  is  not  yet  half  a  century  since 
tlieso  hirds,  the  nohiest  wild  game  of  the  (Jalhiiacuous  order, 
ahounilel  on  the  slopes  of  the  Warwick  and  Musconetcong 
Mountains ;  in  the  Shawan;^unks  ;  and,  in  a  word,  throui^hout 
the  whole  ienijth  of  the  great  chain,  which  connects  the  White 
Mountains  of  the  north,  with  the  Allcghanies  proper.  I  have 
myself  conversed  with  sportsmen,  in  the  river  counties  of  New 
Vork,  who,  in  their  hoyhood,  thought  less  of  killing  their  half- 
dozen  Wild  Turkeys  in  the  morning,  than  we  should  now-a-days 
of  hagging  as  many  Rull'ed  Grouse.  At  present,  with  the  ex- 
ception of  a  i'cw  stragglers  which,  I  helieve,  still  exist  on  the 
Connecticut,  ahout  the  rocky  steeps  of  Mount  Tom  and  Mount 
Ilolyoake,  and  a  single  drove,  which  are  reported  to  he  seen 
occasionally  among  the  hill-fastnesses  at  the  lower  end  of  the 
Greenwood  Lake,  on  the  frontiers  of  iSew  York  and  New  Jersey, 
none  are  to  he  foui'd  until  we  reach  the  western  regions  of 
Pennsylvania.  And,  in  fact,  as  a  hird  of  sport,  they  are  not, 
any  where  on  the  eastern  side  of  the  great  Apalachian  chain. 

The  Deer  and  the  greater  American  Hare,  whicli  turns  white 
in  winter,  are  likewise  already  extinct  in  many  places, 
where  hoth  could  he  captured,  within  the  last  twenty  years, 
in  such  nund)ers  as  to  allbrd  both  sport  and  profit  to  their  pur- 
suers. 

In  New  Jersey,  and  in  New  York,  south  of  the  forty-second 
degree  of  north  latitude,  with  the  exception  of  a  small  number 
carefully  preserved  on  the  brush-plains  of  Long  Island,  the  Deer, 
Cervus  ViR(3ixiAN'us,  has  cease  I  to  exist.  Audit  reiuiresno 
prophetic  eye  to  seethe  day  when  this  pride  of  the  North  Ame- 
rican forest  shall  have  ceased  to  have  its  habitation  any  where 
eastward  of  Pennsylvania  ;  uidess  it  be  in  the  remote  northern 
forests  of  Maine,  in  the  mountains  of  New^  Hampshire  and  Ver- 
mont, and  in  that  small  district  of  New  York,  lying  between  the 
head  waters  of  the  Hudson,  Lake  Champlain,  the  St.  Lawrence, 
and  the  evstern  extremity  of  Ontario — which  latter  tract,  owing 
to  its  singularly  rugged  and  unproductive  character,  will  proba- 
bly contain  the  Deer,  the   Moose,  the  Cariboo,  the  Panther,  and 


u 


1 


'11 


V 


14 


FHANK     FOKKSTKR's    KlliLD  SPOHTS. 


I    ; 


even  tho  noavcr,  after  they  shuU  have  become  extinct,  even  in  the 
fur  West. 

It  has  been  alleged,  and  by  many  is  doubtless  believed  to  be 
true,  that  tho  increase  of  population,  the  spread  of  cultivation, 
and  the  transfiguration  of  the  woods  and  wastes  into  corn-lands 
and  pastures,  are  in  themselves  an  all-suiricient  and  irremediable 
cause  for  the  disappearance  of  all  the  various  kinds  of  game,  the 
extinction  of  which  the  sportsman  and  the  naturalist  alike 
deplore. 

Were  this  the  case,  it  would  be  needless  to  waste  words  on 
the  subject — but  so  far  is  it  from  being  the  case,  that  with  regard 
to  very  many  kinds  of  game — several  of  those  already 
cited,  and  others-,  which,  though  still  numerous,  will  ere  long 
be  in  the  same  predicament,  so  rapidly  are  they  decreasing — the 
very  converse  of  the  proposition  is  true. 

The  Wild  Turkey,  the  Pinnated  Grouse,  and  its  congener,  the 
Ruffed  Grouse,  as  also  the  much  rarer  bird  of  the  same  order, 
commonly  known  as  the  Spruce  Partridge — the  very  existence 
of  which  was  unknown  to  Wilson — all  unquestionably  do  make 
their  homes  in  the  wilderness,  the  last-named  there  exclusively. 
But  all  the  others,  without  exception,  prefer  the  vicinity  of  cul- 
tivated regions  on  account  of  the  plenty  and  choicer  quality  of 
the  food  ;  and  are  found  nowhere  in  such  abundance  as  in  those 
localities,  which  afford  the  combination  of  rough  wild  lying- 
ground,  with  highly  cultivated  land,  on  which  to  feed  at  morn 
and  dewy  eve. 

Thus,  in  the  Eastern  States,  if  you  are  in  pursuit  of  the  Ruffed 
Grouse,  the  surest  places  where  to  flush  your  game  will  not  be 
the  depths  of  the  cedar  swamp,  or  the  summit  of  the  mountain 
horrid  with  pine  and  hemlock,  but  on  the  slopes  and  ledges 
falling  down  to  the  cultivated  vales,  and  in  the  skirts  of  briary 
woodlands,  or  in  the  re.l-cedar  knolls,  which  remain  yet  unshorn 
in  the  midst  of  maize  and  buckwheat  fields,  which  never  fail  to 
tempt  this  mountain-loving  bird  from  his  native  fastnesses. 

In  like  manner,  in  the  West,  it  is  on  the  prairie,  but  in  the 
vicinity  of  the  boundless  tracts  of  maize  and  wheat,  which  the 
indnstrv  of  the  white  man  has  spread  out  over  the  huntintr 


INTRODUnOBV    OnsKUVATIONS. 


16 


grounds  of  the  Imliim,  that  the  Pinnated  Grouse  is  to  l)e  found 
in  millions  ;  and  the  Turkey  in  similar  situations,  where  the 
fotcst  encircles  the  yet  isolated  clearings  of  the  agricultural 
pioneer. 

Thus,  of  these  three  species,  it  is  untrue  that  the  spread  of 
fultivalion,  unless  in  so  far  as  thai  involves  the  increased 
nuiiihcrs  and  increased  persecution  of  the  cultivators,  has  any 
detrimental  ellbct  on  their  propagation,  or  in  anywise  tends  to 
decrease  their  numbers.  For  centuries  yet  to  come,  let  Ame- 
rican industry  dcvelope  and  extend  American  agriculture  as 
rapidly  as  it  may,  there  will  be  woodlands  and  wilds  in  abun- 
dance to  furnish  shelter  for  any  quantity  of  game ;  and  there 
will  always  be  fastnesses  innumerable,  which  never  will,  be- 
cause they  never  can^  be  cleared,  owing  to  the  roughness  of 
their  surface,  and  thp  sterility  of  their  soil,  whether  from  eleva- 
tion above  the  sea,  rockiness  or  swampiness  of  situation,  or 
other  natural  causes,  which  it  needs  not  to  enumerate. 

Other  species  of  game,  so  far  from  Hying  cultivation,  or  ab- 
horring the  vicinity  of  civilized  man,  are  literally  not  to  be  found 
except  where  the  works  of  the  ox  and  the  man  are  conspicu- 
ous ;  never  being  seen  at  all  in  the  wilderness  projjcr,  and 
giving  cause  for  some  speculation  as  to  their  whereabouts, 
their  haunts,  their  habits,  if  not  their  existence  on  the  conti- 
nent, previous  to  the  arrival  of  civilized  man,  from  realms 
nearer  to  the  sun. 

Neither  the  Woodcock  nor  the  Quail,  Scolopax  Minor,  and 
Perdix,  sive  Ortyx  Virginian  a,  are  ever  found  in  the  depths 
of  the  untamed  forest,  aloof  from  human  habitations  ;  though 
both  genera  frequent,  nay  require,  woodland,  as  a  sine  qua  non, 
for  their  habitation.  Moreover,  in  j)laces  where  they  are  entirely 
unknown  to  the  first  settlers,  where  they  do  not  in  fact  exist  at 
all,  they  speedily  become  abundant,  so  soon  as  the  axe  levels 
the  umbrageous  forest,  and  the  admitted  sunbeams  awaken  or 
mature  the  germs  of  that  animal  or  vegetable  life,  on  which  the 
birds  subaist. 

This  is,  I  presume,  su  generally  known  as  a  fact,  that  no  proof 
thereof  is  nece."is»rv      I  may,  however,  mention  two  or  thre*^- 


■'1 
•'1 

hi 


111 


!!■    y 


,'  ■  i 


16 


FKANK    FOUESTEU'S    FIELD    SPORTS. 


very  distinct  and  remarkable  instances  of  this  fact,  which  have 
come  under  my  own  observation  ;  one  with  regard  to  the  in- 
crease and  spread  of  Quail,  the  others  of  Woodcock,  into  loca- 
lities where  they  were  previously  unknown.  Some  seventeen 
years  ago,  I  visited  Niagara  Falls  for  the  first  time,  and  travelled 
westward  so  far  as  the  upper  waters  of  the  Thanf>es  and 
the  Chenail  Ecartfe  in  Canada  West,  shooting  a  little  when  oc- 
casion oflered,  and  making  many  enquiries  concerning  the  va- 
rieties of  game,  and  the  habits  of  those  to  be  found  in  the  prov- 
ince. At  that  time,  1  enjoyed  some  extremely  good  Snipe 
shooting,  close  to  the  village  of  Niagara,  at  the  embouchure 
of  the  river  into  Lake  Ontario  ;  and,  in  fact,  1  saw  more  birds, 
and  those  tamer,  than  in  any  other  place  where  1  have  ever  shot 
them.  I  had  no  dog  with  me,  and  was  completely  ignorant  of 
the  country  ;  but  in  such  multitudes  were  the  Snipe  feeding  in 
every  fallow-field  and  maize  stubble — it  was  in  the  spring, 
immediately  on  the  breaking  of  the  frost — that  I  made  a  very 
large  bag,  in  the  course  of  a  very  few  hours.  At  that  period, 
the  Woodcock  was  just  becoming  known  on  the  frontier  ;  and 
a  few  birds  were  killed  in  the  season  ;  they  were,  however,  still 
extremely  rare,  and  had  been  known,  comparatively  speaking, 
but  a  short  time.  Quail  were  utterly  unknown,  both  in  the 
Province  and  on  the  American  side  of  the  river.  1  had  not 
journeyed  many  milef.,  ere  1  had  outstrip|;ed  the  Woodcock ; 
and  I  could  gain  no  tidings  of  his  existence  beyond  t'.e  Ouse, 
or  Grand  River  of  the  Mohawks.  At  this  moment,  jjrobably, 
the  best  Woodcock  shooting  on  the  continent  is  to  be  obtained 
in  the  islands  situate  at  the  western  end  of  Lake  Krie,  in  the 
Detroit  River,  and  in  Lake  St.  Clair.  Quail  are  also  I  ecoming 
exceedingly  plentiful  throughout  that  region. 

In  the  same  manner,  in  the  Eastern  States,  until  m  itl.in  the 
last  six  years,  the  Woodcock  has  been  unknown  on  ll  e  Penob- 
scot River,  although  abundant  in  the  vicinity  of  Portland  and 
Casco  Bay,  and  in  the  older  settlements  on  tl  e  Kennel  vv.  What 
renders  it  more  evident,  in  the  latter  ca.'-c,  that  it  is  ll  e  absence 
of  civilization   and    not    the    severity    of  the    cliuiatc,    which 


.    . 


I 


INTnODUCTOUV    OUSERVATION'S. 


r 


lias  so  long  deterred  this  bird  of  passage  from  visiting  the  east- 
ern parts  of  Maine,  is  the  fact  that,  in  tiie  British  Provinces  of 
New  Brunswick  and  Nova  Scotia,  much  farther  to  the  north- 
ward and  eastward,  and  in  the  old  cultivated  French  country 
below  and  around  Quebec,  the  Woodcock  has  long  been  an 
object  of  pursuit  by  the  sportsman,  and  of  attainment  by  the 
gourmet. 

It  may,  therefore,  be  assumed  at  once,  that  the  spread  of  agri- 
culture and  civilization,  in  themselves,  has  no  injurious  operation, 
but  rather  the  reverse,  on  any  kind  of  winged  game;  and  that, 
in  some  instances,  the  progress  of  one  is  simultaneous  with  the 
increased  nuinbers  of  the  other. 

Even  with  game  of  the  largest  kind,  as  Deer,  Bear,  Hares, 
and  the  like,  it  is  not  the  circumscription  of  their  limits  by 
ploughed  fields,  but  the  ruthless  persecution  to  which  tbey  are 
subjected,  which  is  gradually  extinguishing  them,  where,  w  ithin 
ten  or  fifteen  years,  they  aboundeil. 

In  the  counties  of  Hampshire  and  Berkshire,  in  Msissachusetts, 
of  Dutchess,  Pu'.nam,  Kockland  and  Oiange  in  New  York,  and  of 
Sussex,  in  New  Jersey,  there  is  an  extent  of  forest  land,  wilder 
and  more  inaccessible,  and  in  every  way  more  suited  to  harbor 
herds  of  Deer,  and  teii  times  grea'.er,  than  all  the  Deer  forests  in 
the  H  ghbinds  of  Scotland  ;  in  the  former,  you  have  perhaps  rather 
a  grea'e.'  chance  (?f  meeting  an  olepbant,  thanks  to  tlie  abundance 
of  me:i:iger'e-,  tlwiii  a  hart  or  bind — in  the  latter,  the  Ked  Deer 
are  more  numerous  now  than  tl.ey  were  two  centuries  ago. 

Hence  it  is  ev  denl,  that  tiiere  is  no  natural  reason  whatever, 
much  less  a  ne  essary  or  inevitable  one,  for  the  rapid  decrease 
and  approacbing  exlinciion  of  all  kinds  of  game,  whether  large 
or  small,  through.out  tl  e  United  States  of  America.  Nor  is  it  to  be 
attributed  to  any  other  cause  than  the  reckless  and  ignorant,  if 
not  wanton,  destruction  tn  tle>c  animals  l)y  the  rural  population. 


The  destruction  of  tl  o   Pinnateil  dr()u.''e,  which   is  total 


jOll<] 


Island, 
ik-1 


an 


d  all   but  iDtal  in   i\cw  .lers 


ey 


anu 


tl 


le  I'enns 


on 

yi- 


vania  oak-barrens,  is  a.scril.al.le  to  the  brutal  and  wholly  wanton 
havoc  committiid  amoni:;  il  cm  by  ti.e  charcoal-liurners,  who  fru' 


I 

m 


■■311 


I 


II    (11 

i  III 


'■■i 

if  i 


! 


)  U 


18 


FRANK    forester's    FIELD    SPORTS. 


quent  those  wooded  districts ;  and  who,  not  content  with  destroy- 
ing the  parent  birds,  at  all  seasons,  even  while  hatching  and  ho- 
vering their  broods,  shooting  the  half-fledged  cheepers  in  whole 
hatchings  at  a  shot,  and  trapping  them  in  deep  snows — with  a 
degree  of  wantonness  equally  barbarous  and  unmeaning,  steal 
or  break  all  the  eggs  which  they  can  find. 

To  this  add  the  spring  burnings  of  the  forest  land,  and  you  have 
cause  enough  to  account  for  the  extermination  of  the  Pinnated 
Grouse,  or  Heath-Hen  ;  who  is  not  now  to  be  shot  in  such  num- 
bers as  to  render  it  worth  the  while  to  hunt  for  him  nearer  than 
Michigan  or  Illinois. 

I  should,  perhaps,  here  state  as  a  farther  proof  of  the  correct- 
ness of  my  assertion,  thjvt,  on  the  little  island  of  Martha's  Vine- 
yard, off  the  coast  of  Massachusetts,  where  the  Heath-Cock,  once 
abundant,  had  nearly  become  extinct,  the  species  was  preserved 
from  annihilation  by  the  very  praiseworthy  means,  equally  de- 
termined and  energetical,  adopted  by  the  citizens  in  general  to 
prevent  its  extermination. 

This  fine  bird  is  again  plentiful  in  that,  its  last  locality,  on  the 
Atlantic  coast ;  and  it  is  like  to  remain  so,  as  the  people  take  an 
honorable  pride  in  preserving  it,  and  neither  kill  it  themselves, 
nor  allow  visitors  to  do  so,  except  in  the  proper  seasons,  and 
under  restrictions  as  to  numbers.  For  a  space,  I  believe,  of  five 
years  the  prohibition  to  kill  was  absolute  ;  and  the  fine  so  heavy, 
and  so  rigorously  enforced — backed  as  it  was  by  public  opinion 
— that  the  desired  end  was  gained. 

The  period,  if  I  am  not  mistaken,  for  which  the  Grouse  bar- 
rens were  closed  has  expired,  and,  under  some  limitations,  of  the 
the  nature  of  which  I  am  not  exactly  aware,  they  may  be  visited 
by  sportsmen  henceforth. 

The  destruction  of  the  smaller  and  more  abundant  species  is  to 
be  attributed  to  different  reasons — but  the  operation  of  these  is 
more  rapid  and  more  fatal  than  those  which  have  led  to  the  ex- 
tinction of  the  races  we  have  mentioned. 

The  first  of  these  causes  is  the  very  singular,  if  not  incompre- 
hensible, characteristic  of  the  people  of  the  United  States,  to  dis- 


I 

h 

.3 


INTRODUCTORV    OBSERVATIONS. 


19 


regard  and  violate  all  laws,  even  laws  of  their  own  making — the 
second,  the  apathy  of  the  rural  population  with  respect  to  game, 
and  the  error  into  which  they  have  fallen  of  regarding  all  game- 
laws  as  passed  to  their  detriment,  and  for  the  pleasure  of  the  dwel- 
lers in  cities — the  third  is,  the  dishonest  gluttony  of  all  classes 
in  the  cities,  with  the  exception  of  a  few  sportsmen — and  the 
last,  horresco  referens,  the  selfishness  and  want  of  union  •  among 
themselves  of  genuine  sportsmen. 

With  regard  to  the  first  of  the  reasons  laid  down  here,  it  may 
be  taken  as  a  matter  of  fact  that  no  man,  boy  or  fool,  in  the  coun- 
try, abstains  from  killing  game,  in  or  out  of  season,  for  fear  of  the 
law  ;  and  that  no  farmer  or  landholder  will  ever  give  information 
against  the  violation  of  this  law,  though  so  far  is  he  from  being 
non-litigious,  that  one  of  the  principal  pleasures  of  his  life  is  the 
sueing  his  neighbors  for  the  smallest  possible  sums.  The  ex- 
ceeding fondness  of  the  population  in  general  for  recourse  to  civil, 
and  their  equally  evident  disregard  of  criminal,  law,  is  one  of  the 
phenomena  of  the  country,  and  the  age  in  which  we  live. 

Secondly  ;  the  apathy  of  the  farmer  arises  naturally  enough 
from  this,  that  all  he  has  heard  of  game-laws  in  foreign  lands  is 
in  connection  with  feudal  rights,  individual  privileges,  and  nomi- 
nal distinctions,  which  are  certainly  everywhere  more  Oi  less 
vexatious,  and  in  some  places  really  injurious  to  classes — al- 
though far  less  so  than  Americans  are  led  to  believe  by  the 
demagogue  orators  and  editors  from  whom  they  obtain  their  in- 
formation on  this  topic,  as  on  most  others  of  the  internal  eco- 
nomy of  foreign  countries. 

It  is  needless  to  state  that  the  game-laws  of  the  United  States 
have  no  such  bearing  whatsoever  ;  and  are  intended  solely  to  pro- 
tect the  animals  in  question,  during  the  periods  of  nidification, 
incubation,  and  providing  for  the  youthful  broods. 

Remarkably  enough,  it  has  so  happened  in  this  country,  ow- 
mg  to  the  non-residence  of  wealthy  and  otiose  men  in  the  rural 
districts  of  the  Northern  States,  that  until  very  recently  ail  ap- 
plication for  and  amendments  of  game-laws  have  emanated  from 
the  dwellers  in  cities;  and,  for  this  obvious  reason,  that  the  coun- 


r 


iii 


I 


20 


FRANK    FOllESTEU'S    FIELD    SPORTS. 


try  farmers,  as  a  body,  have  neither  the  time,  the  inclination,  nor 
the  opportunities  for  making  tiiemselves  acquainted  with  the 
names,  habits,  or  manners  of  game-animals  ;  and  consequently 
could  not,  if  they  would,  have  framed  adequate  laws  for  their 
protection.  I  believe  that  if  they  could  now  be  brought  as  a  body 
to  understand  that  the  provisions  of  these  laws  are  not  arbitrary, 
and  intended  to  suit  the  wishes  of  classes,  they  might  be  in- 
duced to  lend  their  hand  to  the  good  work  of  game-preservation. 

A  very  few  years  since,  the  sportsmen  proper — those  1  mean 
who  shot  for  exercise,  pleasure,  and  healthful  excitement — and 
the  poachers  who  shot  for  the  markets,  both  coming  from  the 
cities,  were  the  only  enemies  of  the  Quail  and  Woodcock. 
They  were  at  that  time  entirely  disregarded  by  the  farmers,  who 
had  not  the  art  to  kill  them  on  the  wing,  who  did  not  care  for 
theni  as  delicacies,  oi  articles  of  food,  and  M-ho  had  no  markets 
to  supply  with  what  they  considered  useless  birds.  So  great 
was  the  extent  of  this  disregard,  that  I  have  repeatedly,  on 
firing  a  great  number  of  shots  in  small  pieces  of  woodland,  been 
questioned  by  the  owners  what  on  earth  I  found  to  shoot  at ; 
and,  on  showing  some  twenty  or  thirty  Woodcock,  have  been  met 
by  a  remark  that  the  speaker  had  lived  on  that  farm  all  his  life, 
and  had  not  seen  a  dozen  such  birds  in  his  life-time — and  the 
name  of  the  bird  was  unknown  to  them. 

At  this  period,  which  was  the  golden  age  for  the  sportsman,  tra- 
velling was,  comparatively  speaking,  exj)ensive  ;  it  was  often 
necessary,  in  visiting  out-of-the-way  places,  where  the  best  sport 
was  to  be  had,  to  hire  private  conveyances ;  and  the  consequence 
was  that  the  city  poacher  was  in  a  great  measure  precluded  from 
following  his  barbarous  and  dishonest  trade.  Add  to  this,  that 
the  country  people  were  averse  to  the  market-shooter,  when 
they  discovered  his  object,  and  cast  obstacles  in  his  way. 

All  this  is  now  changed — the  rail-roads  by  which  the  country 
is  everywhere  intersected,  enable  the  city  pot-hunter  to  move 
about  with  his  dogs,  and  to  transmit  the  subject  of  his  butchery 
to  the  market  easily,  cheaply,  speedily.  IS'or  is  this  all — the 
country  now  bids  fair  to  monopolize  the  trade  of  pot-hunting. 


^ 


I 


INTKODUCTORY  OBSKUVATIONS. 


21 


The  young  men  and  boys,  now-a-days,  all  shoot  on  tlie  wing  ; 
many  of  them  shoot  extremely  well ;  and  knowing  the  country, 
and  being  at  it  all  the  time,  the  devastation  they  make  is  enor- 
mous. 

Their  game  is  easily  disposed  of  by  the  aid  of  the  conductors, 
or  other  employes  on  tlie  rail-roaiis,  who  share  the  spoils  with  the 
killers.  The  father,  finding  that  the  idle  lad,  who  formerly  did 
an  hour  or  two  of  work,  and  bird-nested  or  played  truant  cpiite 
unprofitably  all  the  rest  of  the  day,  now  readily  earns  his 
three  or  four  shillings  a  day  by  loafing  about  the  woods  with  a 
gun  in  his  hand  and  a  cur  at  his  heels,  encourages  him  in  this 
thoughtless  course,  and  looks  upon  him  as  a  source  both  of  honor 
and  profit  to  the  family. 

In  the  meantime,  knowing  nothing,  and  caring  less  than  noth- 
ing, about  the  habits  or  seasons  of  the  birds  in  question,  he  judges 
naturally  enough  that,  whenever  there  is  a  demand  for  the 
birds  or  beasts  in  the  New  York  markets,  it  is  all  right  to  kill 
and  sell  them. 

And  thanks  to  the  selfish  gormandizing  of  the  wealthier  classes 
of  that  city,  there  is  a  demand  always ;  and  the  unhappy  birds 
are  hunted  and  destroyed,  year  in  and  year  out,  by  the  very  per- 
sons whose  interest  it  is  to  protect  them,  if  it  be  only  for  the  sel- 
fish object  of  making  the  most  money  of  their  killing. 

Even  now,  while  I  write  tliese  lines — February,  1S48 — owing 
to  the  mildness  of  the  winter,  which  has  allured  them  earlier 
than  usual  from  their  hybcrnacula  in  the  swamps  of  the  sunny 
South,  the  Woodcock  are  here  among  us,  preparing  their  nests 
already  ere  the  snow  isolfthe  ground.  Each  pair  of  these  birds, 
if  unmolested  now,  will  raise  eight  young — perhaps  twelve — dur- 
ing the  season.  The  bird,  moreover,  is  in  no  condition  at  this 
time  of  year — his  plumage  is  full  of  a  species  of  louse,  his  flesh 
is  unsavory,  he  is  thin  and  worthless — yet  the  ostentation,  rather 
than  the  epicureanism  of  the  rich  New  Yorker  demands  Wood- 
cock ;  therefore,  despite  law,  common  sense,  and  common  hu- 
manity, the  bird  is  butchered  at  all  times — even  now.  Within  ten 
years  to  come,  if  some  means  widely  different  from  any  now 


i!  t 


I  I 


11  i 


F" 


22 


FRANK    forester's    FIELD    SPORTS. 


li  II 


|l   '! 


adopted  be  not  taken  to  save  this  bird,  it  -will  be  extinct  every- 
where within  a  hundred  miles  of  the  Atlantic  seaboard — and  in- 
land, everywhere  within  a  hundred  miles  of  any  city  large  enough 
to  aflbrd  a  market.  Within  fifty  years  from  the  day  on  Avhich  I 
now  write,  I  am  satisfied  that  the  Woodcock  will  be  as  rare  in 
the  eastern  and  midland  states,  as  the  Wild  Turkey  and  the 
Heath-Hen  are  at  present. 

The  Quail  will  endure  a  little  longer,  and  the  Ruffed  Grouse 
the  longest  of  all — but  the  beginning  of  the  twentieth  century 
will  see  the  wide  woodlands,  the  dense  swamps,  and  the  moun- 
tain sides,  depopulated  and  silent.  I  begin  to  despair — to  feel 
that  there  is  no  hope  for  those  who  would  avert  the  evil  day, 
when  game  shall  be  extinct,  and  the  last  manly  exercise  out  of 
date  in  the  United  States  of  North  America. 

The  foregoing  remarks  contain,  in  brief,  the  reasons  which 
have  induced  me  to  prepare  and  offer  to  the  public  the  present 
work,  on  "  the  Field  Sports  of  the  United  States,  and  the  British 
Provinces  of  North  America" — a  work,  the  intention  and  char- 
acter of  which,  I  shall  take  this  opportunity  of  stating,  are  en- 
tirely different  from  those  of  any  book  heretofore  published  in 
this  country. 

"  In  all  European  countries,"  I  remarked,  in  connexion  with 
the  observations  quoted  above,  "  writers  on  all  branches  of  sport- 
ing have  long  abounded  ;  many  of  them  of  high  birth,  many  of 
them  distinguished  in  the  world  of  science  and  of  letters,  and 
some  even  of  the  gentler  sex.  The  greatest  chemist  of  his  day.  Sir 
Humphry  Davy,  was  not  ashamed  to  record  his  piscatory  expe- 
riences in  '  Salmonia,'  a  work  second  only  in  freshness  and  at- 
traction to  its  prototype,  by  old  Isaak  Walton.  That  fair  and 
gentle  dame,  Juliana  Berners,  deemed  it  not  an  unfeminine  task 
to  indite  what,  to  the  present  day,  is  the  text-book  of  falconry ; 
and  hapless  beautiful  Jane  Grey  thought  she  had  given  the  ex- 
fremest  praise  to  Plato's  eloquence,  when  she  preferred  it  to  the 
music  of  the  hound  and  horn  in  the  good  greenwood.  Till  the  last 
few  years,  however,  America  has  found  no  son  to  record  the  feats 
of  her  bold  and  skilful  hunters,  to  build  theories  on  the  results  of 


INTRODUtTOBY    OBSERVATIONS. 


23 


their  experience,  or  to  plead  the  cause  of  her  persecuted  and 
almost  extermii'    ed  game. 

"  Within  the  lust  few  years,  indeed,  much  has  been  done.  A 
whole  host  of  sporting  writers  have  sprung  up  in  all  quarters  of 
the  land,  having  their  rendezvous  and  rallying  point  in  the 
columns  of  the  New  York  Spirit  of  the  Times. 

"  Still,  most  of  these  writers  have  aspired  rather  to  enter- 
tain than  to  instruct ;  rather  to  depict  scenes  and  incidents  to 
the  life,  than  to  draw  from  those  scenes  a  moral  and  a  theory." 

Even  the  beautiful  edition  of  that  admirable  English  work, 
"  Hawker  on  Shooting" — prepared  for  the  American  reader  by 
my  excellent  friend,  William  T.  Porter,  known  throughout  the 
length  and  breadth  of  the  continent  as  a  thorough  and  accom- 
plished sportsman — does  not  descend  to  those  minute  details  of 
the  zoological  distinctions,  nomenclature,  and  habits  of  our  vari- 
ous species  of  game,  which  I  propose  to  give  to  my  readers  ;  nor 
— though  abounding  with  graphic  accounts  and  highly  colored 
anecdotes  relating  to  every  species  of  shooting  or  hunting,  does 
it  present  any  views  or  suggest  any  means  for  the  preservation 
of  game,  or  for  the  acquisition  of  skill  in  woodcraft  and  gunnery 
in  this  country — both  being  very  different  on  this  from  what 
they  are  on  the  other  side  of  the  Atlantic. 

This  consideration — connected  with  another,  namely,  that  for 
the  last  two  years  hardly  a  week  has  passed  without  my  re- 
ceiving a  letter  from  some  person  addicted  to  field  sports,  in  all, 
even  the  remotest,  parts  of  the  country,  requesting  me  to  suggest 
some  plan  for  the  prevention  of,  what  all  see  to  be  imminent,  the 
total  annihilation  of  game  within  our  borders — has  led  me  to 
believe  that  the  time  has  arrived,  when  a  work  of  this  character 
is  called  for  by  the  country  in  general,  and  is  likely  to  be  as  well 
received  as  the  deficiencies  of  its  author  will  permit. 

And  now,  after  these  brief  introductory  observations,  I  shall 
state  what  is  my  plan  for  the  arrangement  of  this  work,  and 
thereafter  plunge  at  once  in  Medias  Res. 

In  the  first  place,  I  propose  briefly  to  ascertain  what  are  the 
game  of  the  United  States  and  Provinces  of  America — a  point 


24 


FliANK    rOIlESTEK  S    FIELD    SP0HT8. 


which  is,  by  the  way,  of  no  small  consequence  ;  as  it  is  not  by 
any  means  generally  understood,  at  least  by  the  rural  portion  of 
our  eastern  and  midland  sportsmen ;  and  as,  until  it  is  understood 
and  the  understanding  aclcd  upon,  sportsmanship  never  can  be 
placed  on  a  scientific  footing. 

This  done,  I  shall  classify  it  under  its  three  great  distinct  divi- 
sions, of  Upland  or  Inland,  Coast  or  Sea,  and  Western  Siiooting. 

Under  each  head,  I  shall  give  full  descriptions,  selected  from 
the  best  authorities  in  natural  history  and  ornithology,  of  the 
genera,  the  colors,  habits,  breeding  seasons,  and  haunts  of  every 
species  of  game — thereafter,  I  shall  treat  of  the  proper  scientific 
modes  of  killing  and  preserving  them  ;  and,  last  not  least,  I  shall 
insist  on  the  proper  nomenclature,  urging  its  adoption  with  all 
my  poor  powers,  and  endeavoring  to  abolish  the  vulgar,  ignorant, 
slipshod  habit,  which  prevails  to  such  a  terrible  extent,  of  using 
absurd  provincial  misnomers  for  almost  every  animal  of  the  chase. 

Of  the  science  of  gunnery,  the  training  and  pathology  of  dogs, 
the  acquisition  of  the  art  of  shooting  flying,  and  other  kindred 
topics,  so  much  has  been  stated  at  length  by  Hawker,  Youatt, 
Blaine,  and  other  great  English  authorities,  that  it  is  not  neces- 
sary that  I  should  be  very  dilfuse  in  my  observations.  As,  how- 
ever, no  work  on  field  sports  can  be  perfect,  or  approach  to 
perfection,  unless  it  include  these  vital  subjects,  I  shall  of  course 
not  pass  them  over  in  silence,  though  I  shall  dilate  only  on  such 
parts  of  them  as  appear  to  be  most  desirable,  either  for  want  of 
sufficient  present  publicity,  or  from  peculiar  applicability  to  the 
circumstances  of  field  sports  in  America. 

Hunting,  or  coursing,  ;)ro/)er,  does  not  exist  on  this  continent; 
the  great  topics,  therefore,  of  condition,  training,  summering, 
and  riding  hunters  to  hounds,  are,  of  course,  out  of  the  question  ; 
as  well  as  the  kindred  subjects  of  the  management  of  greyhounds, 
keni.el-treatment  and  hunting  of  hounds,  and  lastly,  all  connected 
with  the  noble  science  of  falconry,  once  termed  "  the  Mystery 
of  Rivers." 

I  have,  indeed,  often  wondered  that  both  falconry  and  cours- 
ing have  not  been  introduced  on  the  boundless  prairies  of  the 


INrnODUCTORY    OUSEHVATIONS. 


23 


West,  which,  for  the  perfection  of  the  first  named  sport,  are  the 
grounds  pur  excellence  of  the  whole  world — the  decline  of  fal- 
conry on  the  continent  of  Europe,  and  in  England,  being  caused 
by  the  multiplicity  of  enclosures,  which  renders  it  impossible 
to  pursue  a  chase,  blindfold  as  it  were,  the  eyes  being  fixed 
constantly  on  the  manceuvrcs  of  the  hawk  to  pounce,  and  of 
the  quarry  to  evade  his  stoop,  in  the  mid-air. 

Again,  Deer-coursing  might  be  practised  with  undoubted  suc- 
cess on  the  prairies  ;  the  best  proof  of  which  is  in  the  fact,  that 
it  has  been  tried  by  one  gentleman  at  least,  who  has  imported 
the  rough  Scottish  deer  greyhound  for  the  purpose,  in  the  ex- 
treme VVe'jt ;  and  has  been  found  by  him  to  surpass  all  his  ex- 
pectations, both  for  the  excitement  of  the  chase  and  the  great 
sport  attained.  Deer,  of  the  largest  size  and  finest  head,  were 
run  into,  after  a  pursuit  of  three  miles  or  more,  in  view,  and 
pulled  down  single-handed — nay,  even  the  enormous  Elk  was 
brought  to  bay  unerringly,  by  these  staunch,  fleet  and  noble 
hounds. 

With  regard  to  these  sports,  however,  I  have  said  my  say  , 
and  only  expressing  my  wonder  that  they  should  not  be  adopted, 
and  my  advice  to  all  genuine  Western  sportsmen — I  do  not  mean 
game-butchers — to  adopt  them  with  all  due  speed — I  pass  on  to 
what  more  claims  attention. 

Fishing  is,  perhaps,  scarcely  a  field  sport ;  it  is  nevertheless 
so  decidedly  a  branch  of  sportsmanship — of  course  I  mean  fly- 
fishing, or  trolling  with  the  live  or  dead  minnow  ;  any  other 
mode  I  can  regard  only  as  I  would  knocking  a  hare  on  the  head 
in  her  form,  or  shooting  a  bevy  of  Quail  running,  or  in  a  huddle 
— that  I  may  not  leave  it  unnoticed,  lest  I  should  be  supposed 
to  rob  it  and  its  votaries  of  the  honor  due  to  the  gentle  science. 

I  know  not,  whether,  before  entering  on  my  subject,  I  owe 
any  apology  to  my  readers  for  that  I,  not  native  or  to  the  manor 
born,  should  aspire  to  treat  of  a  subject  so  purely  indigenous  as 
the  field  sports  of  America  Should  it  be  deemed  presumptuous 
in  me  to  attempt  it,  I  must  only  point,  as  my  excuse,  to  seven- 
teen years  of  apprenticeship  honestly  devoted  to  acquiring  the  lit- 


26 


KHANK    KOKESTEK's    FIELD    HPUKTS 


tie  I  do  know  of  Americtin  field  sports — und  so  infinitesimal  ui 
that  little,  that  1  am  almost  compelled  to  own,  with  the  sage  of 
old,  "  all  that  I  do  know  is,  that  I  know  nothing" — and  to  a 
constant  and  long-maintained  habit  of  intercourse  and  familiar 
correspondence  with  better,  though  not  more  thoroughgoing, 
sportsmen  than  myself,  in  every  part  of  the  United  States,  and 
of  the  Provinces. 

Upon  any  yeneral  defence  of  field  sports  I  do  not  here  think 
it  worth  the  while  to  enter.  All  men  whose  opinions  are  worth 
one  moment  of  attention,  have  long  ago  decided  that  they  are 
the  best,  the  manliest,  and  the  most  desirable,  in  every  respect, 
of  national  amusements,  tending  to  prevent  the  demoralization 
of  luxury,  and  over  civilization,  the  growth  of  efl'eminacy  and 
sloth,  and  to  the  maintenance  of  a  little  manhood  in  an  age,  the 
leading  characteristics  of  ■which  are  fanaticism,  cant,  and  hypo- 
crisy, added  to  a  total  and  general  decay  of  all  that  is  manly  or 
independent  either  in  the  physical  or  moral  characters,  alike  of 
individuals  or  nations. 

To  those  who  think  field  sports  cruel,  immoral,  wicked,  and 
brutalizing,  I  have  only  to  make  my  lowest  bow  ;  and  to  en- 
treat that  they  will  give  me  and  my  book,  as  1  shall  assuredly 
give  them  and  their  opinions,  the  widest  possible  berth  ;  assuring 
them  that,  without  the  slightest  respect  for  their  opinions,  1 
have  no  idea  of  intruding  upon  their  premises,  nor  any  desire  to 
convert  them  from  their  comfortable  and  self-hugging  creed. 

In  all  ages  and  in  all  countries,  genuine  field  sports — from 
which  I,  of  course,  exclude  the  really  cruel  and  brutalizing 
amusements  of  bear-baiting,  dog-fighting,  cock-fighting,  and 
other  similar  pursuits,  which  are  for  the  most  part  followed 
only  by  the  vicious  and  Avorthless  population  of  large  cities — 
have  been  approved  of  and  encouraged  by  the  wisest  men, 
by  statesmen  and  philosophers  and  philanthropists,  not  merely 
as  legitimate  pursuits  whereon  to  expend  and  exercise  the 
buoyant  animal  spirits,  and  ardent  animal  propensities  of  youth 
— which  must  have  an  outlet  one  way  or  another — but  as  the 
best  mode  of  preserving  the  combined  advantages  of  the  mens 


INTUODUinORY    OIlSEItVA TIONS. 


27 


tana  in  corpore  saiio — of  keeping  up  nmohoocl,  and  of  maintain- 
ing the  physical  energies  and  ca|iacii(cs  of  the  human  race  at 
their  highest  standard. 

It  is  an  authentic  and  undeniahle  fact  that  the  aristocracy  and 
gentry  of  the  British  Islands  are  superior,  in  physical  heauty 
and  power,  in  robustness,  agility,  and  the  capacity  of  enduring 
fatigue,  to  any  other  class  of  nDlnlity  in  the  world.  They  are, 
in  fact,  the  only  nohllilif  in  existence,  which  have  l)ecn  enabled 
to  resist  the  deteriorating  inlluences  of  wealth,  luxury,  and 
hreeding-in-and-in,  which  have  corrupted  and  eff'enunated  the 
nobility  of  all  other  lands  ;  they  are  the  only  nobilily,  in  exist- 
ence, which  not  only  eijuals,  but  exceeds,  in  physical  stature 
and  strength  the  peasantry  and  laborious  classes  of  their  own 
country.  And  to  nothing  is  this,  or  can  it  he,  ascribed,  but  to 
their  habit  of  residence  on  their  rural  estates,  and  their  addiction 
to  manly  and  laborious  field  sports.  To  the  like  cause,  may 
be,  in  its  degree,  attributed  the  superiority,  in  vigor  and  robust- 
ness, despite  of  ill  fare  and  hardship,  of  the  British  peasant  and 
artisan  to  his  equal  in  society,  in  France,  Spain,  Italy,  and  on 
the  European  continent  in  general. 

This  being,  as  it  must  be  admitted,  true  of  Great  Britain, 
there  are  two  re.isons,  worth  the  consideration  of  the  statesman 
and  the  philanthropist,  why  the  encouragement  of  a  love  for 
field  sports  is  even  more  desirable  and  necessary  in  the  United 
States  than  in  thiit  country. 

The  first  is  this — that  the  wealthy  classes  of  the  northern 
states  eulhelif,  and  of  all  the  states,  in  a  gre.it  degree,  dwelling 
exclusively  in  large  cities,  and  not  residing  at  all  on  rural  es- 
tates, or  acquiring  rural  tastes  and  habits,  are  infinitely  more 
liable  to  become  effeminated  and  cffi'le  than  the  gentry,  not  of 
Britain  only,  but  of  France  and  Germany.  And,  in  fact,  the 
sol  disdiile  aristocracy,  the  dandies  of  our  cities,  are  now  softer 
and  more  cocknified,  as  a  rule,  than  the  gentry  of  the  European 
monarchies. 

The  second  consideration  is  this — that,  standing  armies  beina 
out  of  the  question  in  this  republic,  the  defence  of  the  land  an'l 


'?■ 


2S 


FKANK    KOUtHTKU  8    KIKI.D  81'OHTS. 


f 


I 


I    I  ■ 


IM 


its  institutions  must  ever  bo  intrusted  to  the  people  at  large  ; 
anil  the  aduptibility  of  the  people  to  that  defence  will  ever  de- 
pend on  their  aptitude  to  become  soldiers  at  a  short  notice,  and 
especially  on  their  readiness  with  the  gun. 

So  far  as  they  have  been  tried  hitherto,  nothing  can  be  more 
satisfactory  than  the  results.  But,  I  think,  it  will  appear,  on  a 
little  consideration,  that  the  probability  of  those  results  continu- 
ing the  same  for  a  large  term  of  years,  as  far  as  regards  the  use 
of  the  gun,  is  small  indeed  and  hourly  decreasing. 

During  the  war  of  the  Revolution,  every  countryman  was  a 
rifleman.  Burgoyne  surrendered  as  much  to  the  unerring  aim 
of  the  undisciplined  American  militia,  as  to  the  skill  or  courage 
of  the  regulars.  Even  in  the  last  war,  the  northern  and  mid- 
land states  could  produce  their  hundreds  and  thousands  of  rifle 
shots  ;  and  on  the  Canada  frontier  they  did  good  service. 

Along  the  Atlantic  sea-board  the  rifle  is  now,  already,  an 
unknown  arm  ;  and  I  doubt  extremely  whether,  between  the 
Kennebec,  the  Delaware,  the  great  lakes,  and  the  ocean,  one 
regiinent  could  be  raised  of  men  practically  familiar  with  the 
use  of  this  deadly  national  weapon. 

According  to  this  rate,  the  use  of  the  weapon,  of  course, 
passing  away  so  soon  as  its  utility  passes,  the  rifle  will  ere  long 
be  as  rare  in  the  western,  as  it  now  is  in  the  eastern  states. 
The  Bison,  the  Elk,  are  already  rare  on  this  side  the  Mississippi, 
if  not  extinct.  The  Deer  are,  in  the  same  ratio,  declining,  and 
the  Turkey. 

These  gone,  the  utility  and  honor  of  the  rifle  are  extinct  also 

So  long  as  smaller  game  exist,  the  shot-gun  will  still  continue, 
replacing  the  rifle  as  it  has  done  to  the  eastward,  to  be  in  use ; 
and  the  practice  of  fire-arms  will  not  be  wholly  lost.  Destroy 
the  small  game,  too,  and  the  fowlinL^-piece  falls  into  disuse  also. 

I  do  not  myself  believe  that  one  century  will  pass  over  the 
United  States,  before  its  population,  now  the  readiest  on  earth 
with  the  gun,  will  have  cast  it  aside  altogether  ;  and  before  a 
fjvcbck  will  be  as  rare,  unless  in  the  hands  of  trained  regulars, 
Bs  tl  e  rifle  is  now  on  the  sea-board. 


INTKonUCTOKV    0I1SKRVATI0.N8. 


M 


This  certiiinly  is  a  point  worthy  of  consideration,  even  by 
those  wiu)  think  themselves  fur  too  greut  and  piiihiiUhropii-ul 
to  trouble  themselves  about  such  trifles  as  thr;  increase  cr  de- 
crease of  little  birds,  and  the  field  anris  of  i'<.Ue  non.  It  is, 
however,  sound  philosophy  whi.H  teaches  uv  .imt  ''great  ends 
come  from  small  bo<;innings." 


V.  ] 


I 


I 


I  '     I 


■     1 
■ 


jU'i 


N 


.V 


FRANK     forester's    FIELD    SPORTfl. 


THE    GAME 

OF    THK 

UNITED  STATES  AND  BRITISH  PROVINCES. 


AME  is  not  every  thing  which  ex- 
i,  ists  in  the  shape  of  birds  or  beasts 
in  a  state  of  nature, /er<B  nalurd,  in 
the  woods,  the  wastes,  or  the  wa- 
ters. 

This,  to  sportsmen,  self-evident 
proposition  is  by  no  means  gen- 
erally admitted  or  applied  by  the 
gunners  of  the  United  States,  or 
the  recorders  of  their  feats ;  as  will 
be  readily  seen  by  those  who  peruse  the  registers  of  game  killed, 
in  the  great  hunting  parties  which  are  constantly  occurring  in 
the  more  remote  districts  of  the  Eastern  and  Midland  States — 
registers  in  which  we  shall  find  Owls,  Hawks,  Bluejays,  Robins, 
Pigeons,  Squirrels  ;  nay,  even  Skunks,  Ground-hogs,  and  Opos- 
sums enumerated  as  game. 

Game  is  an  arbitrary  term,  implying,  in  its  first  and  most 
correct  sense  those  animals,  whether  of  fur  or  feather,  which 
are  the  natural  pursuit  of  certain  high  breeds  of  dogs,  and 
which  such  dogs,  whether  they  have  ever  met  with  the  animal 
before  or  not,  will  instinctively  follow  and  take. 

Thereafter,  it  comes  to  signify  all  animals  which  are  so  pursued 
by  dogs  for  the  purpose  of  sport,  not  of  obtaining  food,  or  of 
destroying  a  noxious  animal  merely,  and  to  which  certain  cour- 
tesies, if  I  may  so  express  myself,  are  shewn,  and  certain  semi- 
chivalrous  usatjes  extended. 


GAME    OF    AMERICA. 


31 


At  the  same  time,  with  but  two  exceptions  that  occur  to  mn, 
o  animal  can  properly  l)e  game  which  is  not  fitted  for  the  table^ 
and  the  flesh  of  which  is  not  delicate,  and  esteemed  a  rarity. 

Again,  although  it  he  an  essential  qualification  to  game  that  ii 
should  be  such  as  a  well-bred  dog  will  notice,  and  pursue  natu- 
rally, it  Is  not  necessary  that  the  dog  should  be  invariably  used 
in  its  pursuit — as  in  the  case  of  the  Water-Rail,  and  the  Upland 
or  Bartram's  Plover  ;  on  both  of  which  thorough-bred  dogs  will 
stand  steadily,  although,  for  reasons  of  which  I  shall  treat  under 
their  appropriate  heads,  it  is  not  usual  or  desirable  to  take  out 
pointers  or  setters  in  pursuit  of  them. 

Once  more,  to  conclude,  there  are  animals  which  may  be  re 
garded  as  game,  under  certain   contingencies  and   in   certain 
countries,  which  I  should  not  call  game  under  different  circum- 
stances. 

Where  falconry  is  in  vogue,  for  example,  which  is  purely  a 
sport,  !vnd  a  most  scientific  sport,  too,  the  Heron,  the  Skylark, 
nay,  even  the  Magpie  is  pursued  as,  and  may  be  considered, 
game. 

,  In  like  manner,  where  packs  of  Fox  and  Otter  hounds  are  re- 
gularly kept  for  the  purpose  of  hunting  those  animals,  legiti- 
mately and  scientifically,  and  where  to  kill  those  animals  other- 
wise than  legitimately  and  scientifically,  is  contrary  to  sports- 
manship and  custom,  the  Fox  and  the  Otter  may  be  properly 
termed  game. 

In  England  I  should  certainly  term  the  Fox  an  animal  of 
game  ;  in  those  counties  of  England,  wherein  Otter  hounds  are 
kept  up,  the  Otter  likewise. 

Here,  like  the  other  noxious  animals,  or  those  which  ara 
killed  for  their  peltry  only,  by  the  trap  or  the  gun,  they  i»;e 
vermin;  as  i.re  the  Racoon,  the  Opossum,  and  the  like,  altliou|:li 
these  may  be  casually  pursued,  unscientifically,  and  without  fair 
play,  or  regular  rules  of  sportsmanship,  for  their  flesh,  or  even 
for  sport. 

Game,  therefore,  in  its  proper  sense — and  in  no  other  do  I 
treat  of  it — consists  but  of  a  few  families,  and  even  genuia, 


II 


J.!.  I 


VOL.   I. 


5 


32 


FRANK   forester's   FIELD   SPORTS. 


1:  :i 


i    I 


though  of  many  species  ;  and  in  the  United  States  and  British 
Provinces  of  North  America,  these  families  may  be  limited  to 
six  families  of  quadrupeds  only,  containing  twelve  sub-genera 
and  species  ;  and  this  at  the  very  largest  and  most  liberal  com- 
putation. These  fomilies  are  the  Ox,  Bos;  the  Goat,  Capra ; 
the  Antelope,  Antilope  ;  Deer,  Ccrvus  ;  Have,  Lepiis ;  and  the 
Bear,  Ursus 

Of  the  first,  second  and  third  of  these  genera,  there  are  but 
three  species  found  on  this  continent,  one  of  each. 

The  Bison,  Bos  Amcricavus,  peculiar  to  South  America. 

The  Rocky  Mountain  Goat,  Copra  Montana. 

The  Rocky  Mountain  Sheep,  Ovis  Montana;  and 

The  American  Antf.lope,  or  Pronohokn. 

Of  the  Deer  there  are  five  varieties  found  in  the  territories  of 
the  United  States  and  the  Provinces,  namely — 

The  Moose,  Cervus  Alces  ; 

The  Elk,  Cervus  Canadensis ; 

The  Cariboo,  American  Reindeer,  Cervus  Tarandus ; 

The  Common  Deer,  Cervus  Virginiamts  ;  and 

The  Black-tailed  Deer,  Cervus  Macroth. 

'  Of  the  Hare  there  are  two  varieties  known  on  this  continent : 
The  Common  Hare — vulg.  Rabbit — Lepus  Americanua  ;  and 
The  Northern  Hare,  Lepus  Virginianus. 

Of  the  Bear  also  there  are  two  varieties  : 

The  Common  Brown  Bear,  Ursus  Americanus ;  and 
The  Grisly  Bear,  Ursus  Horrihilis. 

This  is  the  utmost  limit  that  I  can  assign  to  the  quadruped 
game  of  this  country  ;  as  I  cannot  lend  my  humble  sanction  to 
the  shooting  squirrels,  racoons,  or  opossums  out  of  trees,  and 
calling  that  sportsmanship  ;  any  more  than  I  can  assent  to  shoot- 
ing thrushes,  crow-blackbirds,  pigeons,  meadow-larks,  and  reed- 
birds,  and  calling  them  game. 

In  fact,  for  my  own  pau,  I  can  scarcely  bring  myself  to  re- 
gard the  Bison  or  the  Bear  as  game,  in  consequence  of  the  whoh;- 


.:v.#<^' 


sl 


f;; 


.lit'  :t     , 

«?*.'■* 'v.       ■     :.  •'    .' 


'    -'S'v'i'-^ 


»" '     ■ '  .'■    n"  1."*  -(^i  . 


■  -  *  ■ 


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"■iVf^X 


I    C; 


^f^^saiM^smmmmmr'smfr*' 


^  L 


I     ii ..   ;.      *  1    I  .V .  I  N     '■!('  1.1     ■' .  ■■(  •  ■''  ■'•    . 

'"'.         ■■■■■:.',  ■»  ."i  "  fr        <i     i  '■.;    '•  ■  •!!(     .> 

,       ■    .  .■  '•.•■•:-■  ^      :'i..j,,M  ii 


,> 


.    •    ■     lA!-.       '      .'•■. 


•A  ii  'tr 


r  ■,];..  j5 


0^::    ill 


M.        I    >■■ 


II     -I'-s;.'!. 


ic.    I! 


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.■ri\:-i- 


lb,    -.1    :" 


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.i;a-.  ■•'.'■•    1- 


I  ■.  ' 


:1     •  •! 


n'l, ,  u:  '■...!. 


I 


In' 


(;ame  of  ameuica. 


33 


sale  and  butcher-like  lashion  in  which  the  former  are  slaughtered, 
and  the  total  absence  of  what  I  should  deem  sport  in  gallopping 
alongside  of  a  great  unwieldly  terrified  mountain  of  flesh,  pouring 
broadsides  into  him,  until  he  ftiUs  for  loss  of  blood  ;  and  looking 
to  the  ferocious  and  noxious  character  of  the  latter. 

Nevertheless,  in  the  West,  i?«/f«/o-hunting  is  regarded  as 
sport — therefore  the  Bison — for,  be  it  observed,  there  is  no  such 
animal  known  to  this  continent  as  the  Bujfalo — must  take  its 
place  among  the  game  of  North  America  ;  and,  in  the  south 
and  south-west,  the  bear  is  hunted  sportsmanly  and  scientifically 
with  packs  of  highly-trained  and  highly-bred  hounds.  I  cannot 
therefore,  deny  him  a  place  in  the  list  of  animals  of  game  or 
chase. 

The  Antelope  again,  anil,  yet  more,  the  Rocky  Mountain 
Sheep,  are  so  rare,  and  so  little  pursued,  except  by  the  travellers 
and  trappers  of  those  barren  wilds,  who  kill  them — when  they 
can — for  their  flesh,  that  they  barely  come  within  the  sphere  of 
game.  There  is  no  mode  of  hunting  or  pursuing  them  practised, 
except  to  crawl  as  near  to  them  as  you  can,  and  shoot  them  if 
you  can  ;  still  they  are  of  species  recognised  as  game  elsewhere, 
which  doubtless  would  afford  rare  sport,  if  they  were  in  situations 
where  they  could  be  legitimately  hunted ;  and  perhaps  will  yet  af- 
ford it,  if  they  be  not  destroyed  by  the  trappers  and  backwoods- 
men, before  increasing  civilization  and  refinement  brings  up  a 
class  capable  of  indulging  in  the  expensive  pursuit,  and  of  cher- 
ishing a  fondness  for  sport,  purely  for  sport's  sake. 

The  Moose,  the  Elk,  the  Cariboo,  and  the  Common  Deer,  are 
distinctly  game  in  every  sense  of  the  word  ;  and  are  pursued  as 
such  whenever  they  can  be  found.  The  black-tailed  Deer  is  of 
precisely  the  same  order,  and  will  doubtless  afford  as  good  sport, 
whe:i  civilization  shall  have  reached  his  haunts,  which  are  on, 
and  to  the  westward  of,  the  Rocky  Mountains. 

The  two  varieties  of  Hare  are  likewise  emj)hatically  game  ; 
and  it  is  with  these  two  families  only,  and  but  Avith  two  or  three 
species  of  these,  that  nine-tenths  of  my  readers  will  ever  have 
to  do. 


i 


Hi 


■Am 


i 


!  I 


34 


FKANK    FORESTER  S    FIELD   SPORTS. 


II 


n 


ill- 


The  Mouse  and  Cariboo  may  be  hunted  with  more  or  less 
success  in  Maine  and  Canada,  as  well  as  in  the  Eastern  provin- 
ces of  Nova  Scotia  and  New  Brunswick.  A  few  linger  yet  in 
the  north-eastern  angle  of  New  York,  and  on  the  northern 
frontiers  of  Vermont  and  New  Hampshire.  There  is,  however, 
little  prospect  of  sport  in  their  pursuit,  west  of  the  St.  .Johns,  or 
south  of  the  Canada  lines.  A  few  Elk  are  said  to  exist  still  in 
the  western  districts  of  Pennsylvania,  and  also  in  Kentucky, 
but  to  find  them  in  herds,  and  in  fact  to  have  a  chance  of  killing 
them,  the  hunter  must  go  westward  of  the  Mississippi. 

Even  the  larger  species  of  hare,  which  becomes  white  in  win- 
ter, is  becoming  rare  in  New  York  south  of  the  region  of  Lake 
Champlain ;  and,  except  among  the  craggy  hills  where  he 
can  laugh  at  pursuit,  he  will  soon  cease  to  exist  as  an  animal  of 
chase. 

So  that  in  fact  for  the  great  majority  of  sportsmen,  the  number 
of  varieties  of  four-footed  game  is  reduced  to  two  species — the 
common  Deer,  and  the  common  Hare — the  small  grayish  brown 
fellow,  I  mean,  who  is  erroneously  called  Rabbit — for  be  it  ob- 
served no  Rabbit  exists  on  the  continent  of  North  America,  and 
no  Buffalo  ;  though  I  suppose  to  all  eternity,  men  will  persist — 
even  men  of  education,  who  ought  to  know,  and  do  know,  better 
— in  calling  them  by  the  names  applied  to  them  by  the  illiterate 
and  vulgar. 

I  have  no  patience  with  the  dependent  provincial  vulgarism  of 
calling  all  birds,  beasts,  plants  and  fishes,  by  the  name  of  Euro- 
pean animals  or  vegetables,  to  which  they  bear  some  fancied 
resemblance,  when  no  such  things  exist  on  the  continent. 

There  is  scarcely  a  wild  bird  or  a  wild  plant  in  this  country 
that  does  not  go  by  some  ludicrous  misnomer.  Thus  a  Thrush  is 
termed  a  Robin,  a  Vulture  a  Crow,  a  Grouse  a  Pheasant  or  a  Par- 
tridge, a  Quail  a  Partridge — a  Rhododrendon,  an  Azalia,  and  a 
Calmia — all  three  as  wide  apart  from  each  other,  and  from  the 
thing  they  are  called,  as  an  ivy  bush  from  an  oak  tree — laurel ; 
and  so  on,  of  almost  everything  that  runs,  flies  or  grows  in  the 
woods  or  wilds  of  the  United  States. 


fil  ; 


GAME   OF   AMERICA. 


3o 


a 
e 

> 
e 


It  is  to  those  stupid  misnomers,  as  I  shall  show  herevi/ter,  that 
one-half  the  confusion  and  dilficulty  arises  among  sportsmen 
with  regard  to  the  objects  of  their  pursuit. 

We  now  come  to  the  winged  game  ;  and  here  we  shall  find 
less  dilliculty  in  deciding  what  species  are  properly  game; 
though,  with  regard  to  one  or  two  families,  much  more  in  ascer- 
taining the  correct  denominations  of  the  birds  themselves,  it 
being  no  easy  task  to  assign  the  individuals  known  by  some  bar- 
barous nickname  to  any  real  tribe  or  order. 

All  the  game  birds,  proper,  of  this  continent,  then,  belong  to 
three  orders  ;  one  of  land,  and  two  of — as  lliey  are  called — wa- 
ter birds ;  althougli  several  species  of  the  latter  are  found  inland 
and  on  uplands. 

All  our  game,  coming  under  the  head  of  land-birds,  proper, 
are  of  the  order  termed  by  oniithulogists  Rasores  ;  and  belong  to 
two  families,  Paoonidce,  and  TetraonUla  ;  or  birds  following  the 
types  of  the  Peacock,  and  of  the  Grouse.  Of  these  again  we 
have  three  subdivisions — Melcayris,  or  Turkey  ;  Ortyx,  or  Ame- 
rican Quail ;  and  Tetrao,  or  Grouse. 

Of  the  second*  family  Favon'uhB,  and  first  genus  Meleagris,  the 
United  States  possess  but  one  species. 

The  Wild  Turkey.     Mdeaxjris  Gallipavo. 

Of  the  third  family  TetraonidcB,  and  first  genus,  Orti/x,  Quail, 
there  are  no  less  than  six  distinct  species  within  the  territories 
now  belonging,  or  about  shortly  to  belong,  to  the  United  States ; 
and  I  think  it  well  at  least  to  mention  their  names  and  places  of 
residence ;  as  experience  teaches  us  that  our  population  spreads 
with  such  vast  rapidity,  that  tracts,  which  are  a  wilderness  one 
year,  are  the  next  almost  thickly  settled  places  ;  so  that  it  is  by 
no  means  impossible,  nor  even  very  improbable,  that  within  a 
few  years,  more  or  less,  these  varieties  of  Quail,  now  known  only 
to  a  few  minute  and  laborious  ornithologists,  may  be  as  regularly 
hunted  and  as  scientifically  killed  as  our  own  domestic  bird  of 
the  same  kin.     They  are  these — 

*  The  fust  family,  Columbidcc,  of  lliis  order,  the  third  of  land-birds,  are  nut 
•same. 


I; 


Mllif 


=  IP 


IS  Mi 


'.iP 


FRANK    FuliKSTEK  S    FIELD   SI'OKTS. 


1.  The  Common  Amkkican  Quail, 

2.  TiiK  Califouman  Quail, 

3.  TiiK  Plumed  Quail, 

4.  The  Welcome  Quail, 

5.  The  Paintep  Quail, 

6.  The  Douulass  Quail, 


Ortijx  Virginiann  ; 
Ortyx  Cali/ornicn ; 
Orlyx  I'luini/cni ; 
Ortyx  Neoxena ; 
Ortyx  Picta; 
Ortyx  DuiKjlasii. 


Of  these  six  species  the  first  alone  is  yet  an  object  r»'  purauH, 
being  Ibund  everywliere  south  of  the  43id  degree  of  north  lati- 
tude, from  the  waters  of  the  Kennebeck  to  those  of  the  Rio 
Grande,  if  not  yet  fartlier  to  the  south.  Tl\e  second,  third, 
fourth,  and  fifth  species  arc  all  inhabitants  of  California,  as  far 
north  as  the  valley  of  the  Culundiia — the  third,  or  Plumed  Quail, 
being  found  farther  north  among  the  Rocky  Mountains  ;  and  the 
last,  named  after  its  discoverer,  being  a  denizen  of  Lower  Califor- 
nia only,  and  never  straying  so  far  northward  as  his  congeners. 

Still  of  the  third  family  Tetruon'uUe,  we  have  in  the  United 
States  and  Canada,  a  second  genus  Tclrcto,  Grouse  j)roper,  of 
which  three  distinct  and  well  marked  species  belong  to  the 
States,  if  not  four.  Two  more,  in  addition  to  the  above,  inhabit 
the  British  provinces,  and  thence  northward  to  the  Arctic 
Ocean ;  and  four  others  are  peculiar  to  the  Rocky  Mountains, 
and  the  valley  of  the  Colundiia.  Three  of  these  species  are  tole- 
rably plentiful^  and  two  of  them  1  have  myself  shot,  the  one  being 
the  Ruded,  and  the  other  the  Canada  Grouse,  respectively  vul- 
garised, as  the  Partridge,  and  Spruce  Partridge. 

Within  a  few  years,  there  is  little  doubt  that  the  western  spe- 
cies will  be  exposed  for  sale  in  our  markets  ;  and,  should  Whit- 
ney's Oregon  Railroad  go  into  efl'ect  in  our  days,  who  knows  but 
we  may  live  to  shoot  Cocks  of  the  Plains  ourselves,  and  bring 
them  home  the  next  day  to  dinner  at  Delmonico's  ? 

The  ten  American  species  of  Grouse  are  as  follows  : 

1.  The  Common  Ruffed  Grouse,  Tetrao  Umbelliis ; 

2.  The  Pinnated  Guouse — or  the  Ileath-llen,  Tetrao  Ctipido, 
.3.   The  Canada  Grouse — or  Spruce  Grouse,  Tetrao  Cana- 
densis ; 

4.  The  Dusky  Guouse.  Tiirao  Obsciirus : 


GA.MIi    OK    A.Mr.lUC.V. 


37 


5.  The  Cock  op  tub  Plains,  Tttruo  [frophasiunus ; 
Q,  The  SiiAiu'-TAiLED  Gkou.sk,  Tetrao  Phashinellua ; 

7.  The  Willow  Giiousii,  7\tiao  Sa/iceti ; 

8.  The  Ameiucan  Ptaumioan,  Tetrao  Mulus ; 

i).  The  llocK  Ptarmigan,  Tetrao  Iliipesliis ;  aiul 
10.  Tiie  White-tailed  Ptarmigan,  Tetrau  Leucuras. 

Of  these  nuble  birds,  the  three  species  first  nainetl  are  all  na- 
tives of  the  Eastern  States,  ami  a  few  of  all  are  yet  to  be  found 
in  them;  although  the  Pinnated  Grouse,  or  lleath-llcn,  has  been 
nearly  exterminated — as  I  have  before  observed — and  the  Canada 
or  Spruce  Grouse,  is  a  shy,  forest-haunting  bird,  rarely  met  with, 
and  scarcely  ever  pursued  on  his  own  account  alone.  1  never 
saw  hut  one  alive,  which  I  shot  on  the  Penobscot,  in  Maine.  It 
is,  so  far  as  1  can  learn,  nowheio  plentiful,  not  even  in  its  north- 
ern haunts. 

The  seventh  species,  the  Willow  Grouse,  is  stated  in  the  books 
to  exist  from  Maine  to  Labrador.  1  never,  however,  have  heard 
of  one  being  killed,  or  seen  south  of  the  St.  Lawrence,  above 
Quebec.  If  it  be  found  in  the  States,  it  is  so  rare  as  to  be  un- 
worthy of  notice,  as  a  species  of  game. 

The  fourth,  fifth,  sixth,  and  tenth  varietie-.  are  indigenous  to 
the  Rocky  Mountains  and  the  valley  of  the  Columbia,  and  will 
probably  be,  one  day,  added  to  the  list  of  American  game,  and 
fairly  pursued,  as  such. 

The  eight  and  ninth  inhabit  the  desolate  regions  northwartl  of 
Labrador,  and  Melville  Island,  and  the  banks  of  the  Churchill 
River,  where  no  one  is  very  like  to  follow  them  in  search  of 
sport.  Few  of  our  race  have  ever  seen  them  living,  and  they 
are  of  course  incapable  of  naturalization  to  the  southward. 

And  here  ends  the  list  of  our  game  land-birds,  proper — al- 
though a'!  I  have  stated,  two  or  three  varieties  of  those  which 
are  classe  1  by  the  naturalist  as  water-birds,  and  which  are  in 
some  sort  amphibious,  fall  under  the  sportsman's  head  of  Upland 
shooting.  It  is  on  account  of  this  peculiarity,  that  I  propose, 
after  enumerating  and  classifying  the  game  of  the  country  in 
general,  in  its  proper  orders,  families,  and  genera,  to  distinguish 


M 


1  '  ' 


i  H'i 


;  n 


I  l! 


38 


FRANK    FOllKSTKIl  S    FIELD   Sl'OriTS. 


•t  farther  ticcorditii;  to  the  regions  uml  situulions  in  which  we 
find  it,  and  the  modes  we  iidupt  in  its  pursuit. 

Of  game  land-birds,  proper,  tlien,  we  Imve  in  all  but  three 
OENKKA,  the  wild  Turkey,  the  Grouse,  and  the  Quail.  Here 
upecialh/  observe  and  remember  that  on  the  whole  continent  oj 
Amcr'u'.a  there  exists  neither  V he Asxyr  nor  Partridge;  and  to 
call  the  UuH'ed  Grouse,  or  American  Quail,  as  both  are  called, 
by  those  names,  is  not  an  iota  less  absurd  than  it  would  be  to 
call  them  Game-cocks,  and  Bantams. 

Moreover,  of  all  the  various  sj)ecies  both  of  Grouse  and  Quail, 
common  to  this  country,  there  are  but  two  of  the  former,  the 
Rutfed  and  Pinnated,  and  one  of  the  latter,  the  common  Quail, 
sulBciently  abundant  in  any  part  of  the  United  States  or  Canada, 
to  render  it  worth  the  sportsman's  while  to  pursue  them. 

Of  water-birds,  to  proceed  with  our  enumeration,  we  have  a 
a  much  larger  number  coming  under  the  head  of  game ;  all  of  two 
famiiie-i,  Grallatores,  or  waders,  and  JVatatores,  or  swimmers. 
The  first,  third,  and  fourth  families  of  the  first  of  these  orders, 
the  waders,  include  some  of  our  choicest  and  most  favorite  va- 
rieties of  game,  both  for  the  excellence  of  their  flesh,  and  the 
spurt  they  allbrd  in  the  field. 

They  are  the  RaUidiB,  the  Charadriadee,  and  the  Scolopacida., 
or  the  families  whereof  the  Rail,  the  Plover,  and  the  Wood- 
cock form  the  types.  Of  the  second  order,  the  swimmers,  the 
♦jcond  family  alone,  the  Anatida,  of  which  the  Duck  constitutes 
the  type,  comes  within  the  sjjliere  of  my  notice  as  game;  but 
iive  of  its  six  genera — the  first,  containing  the  Flamingo,  only- 
being  omitted — Goose,  Swan,  Duck,  Sea-duck  and  Diver,  con- 
tain more  species  than  all  the  rest  of  our  list  together.  But  to 
|)i'oceed  in  order,  of  the  first  family  Rallid<e,  of  the  waders,  we 
have  two  genera.     FuHca,  Coot,  and  Italliis,  Rail. 

1st.  The  Commox  American  Coot,  FiiHca  Nigra,  which  is  a 
common  autumnal  visitant  of  all  the  coasts,  bays  and  salt 
marshes  from  Pennsylvania  eastward. 

Of  the  Rail,  three  species  are  well  known  to  all  our  sports- 


liAMK   OF   AMERICA. 


39 


1st.  TiiG  ViRciiNtA  Rail,  Rallus  Virglnianus  ; 

2nd.  The  Clapper  Rail — Vulg.  Meadow,  or  Mud,  Hen — 
Rallus  Crepitans  ; 

3rd.  TiiK  Common  Sora  Rail,  Rallus  Curolinus,  which  is  the 
bird  killed  in  such  uhundance  on  the  flats  and  reed-beds  of  the 
Delaware  in  autumn. 

The  second  family  of  this  order,  the  Gruida,  of  which  the 
Crane  is  the  type,  containing  all  the  varieties  of  Heron,  Ibis, 
and  Bittern,  I  do  not  rej^ard  as  game ;  and  therefore  pass  in  si- 
lence. Of  the  next,  third,  family,  Cliaradriada,  we  have  all  the 
genera  but  one,  the  Charadrius^  Plover,  proper,  six  varieties — the 
Slrepsilas,  Turnstone  and  the  Ilutnuitopus,  Oyster-catcher,  the  last 
named  hardly  being  entitled  to  the  name  of  game,  the  others  all, 
like  four-fifths  of  the  next  family,  being  included  under  the  vul- 
gar appellation  of  Bay  Snipe,  or  Bay  birds.  It  is  unnecessary, 
at  present,  to  enumerate  all  the  species  of  these  genera,  as,  in 
truth,  they  are  generally  of  small  value,  with  perhaps  one  excep- 
tion, the  Golden  Plover. 

The  fourth  family,  Scolopacida^  contains  almost  all  our  best 
and  most  delicious  species  for  the  table,  and  those  which  are 
most  eagerly  pursued  and  most  highly  prized  by  the  genuine 
sportsman. 

All  the  genera  of  this  family  are  game,  and  scarcely  one  but 
contains  some  favorite  species. 

The  first  is  Trimja,  Sandpiper,  of  which  we  have  eight  or  nine 
varieties,  classed  indiscriminately  with  the  next  two  genera,  as 
Bay  birds,  by  our  gunners. 

The  second,  Totantis,  Tatler,  contains  seven  species,  all  of 
which  are  common  along  the  Atlantic  seaboard,  and  four,  a* 
least,  of  which  are  universally  known  and  general  favorites. — 
The  first  I  regard,  myself,  as  the  best  bird  that  files,  in  an  epi- 
cp.rean  point  of  view,  not  excepting  even  the  world-lamouj  can- 
vass back.     The  varieties  are — 

1.  The  Upland  Plover,  Grass  Plover,  or  Frost  Bird,  Tota- 
nus  Bartramius ; 

2.  Semi-palmated  Snipe,  or  Willet,  Totanus  Semipalmatus  ; 


fT' 


V  ;i 


I-  A   ! 


:1 


,1  -iiii 


40 


FRANK    FORESTER  S    FIELD    SPORTS. 


3.  Spotted  Tatler,  Tolanus  Macularius  ; 

4.  Solitary  Tatler,  Tolnnus  SoUtarius  ; 

5.  Yellow  Shanks  Tatler,  Lesser  Yellow  Leg,  Totanus 
Flavipes  ; 

6.  Telltale  Tatler,  Greater  Yellow  Leg,  Totanus  Vocifc- 
rus;  and 

7.  Green  Shanks  Tatler,  Totanus  Glottis. 

Of  these  the  Upland  Plover,  the  Willet,  and  the  two  Yellow 
Legs  are  very  general  favorites.  The  first  is  an  excellent  bird  ; 
the  others,  me  judice,  are,  nine  times  out  of  ten,  uneatably  fishy 
or  sedgy. 

The  third  genus,  Limosa,  Godwit,  has  but  one  species  which 
visits  us. 

The  Great  Marbled  Godwit,  or  Straight-billed  Curlew, 
Limosa  Fcdoa,  frequently  killed  with  the  Sandpipers,  Plovers  and 
Tatlers  on  the  Long  Island  bays,  and  the  shores  of  New  Jersey. 

The  fourth  genus,  Scolopax,  has  three  species  known  to  every 
sport?  'an  ;  two  his  most  chosen  game.     They  are — 

1.  V>\,  son's  Snipe — vulg.  Englisli  Snipe — Scolopax  Wil- 
sonii ; 

2.  Red-breasted  Snipe  —  vulg.  Quail  Snijie — Scolopax  No- 
veboracensis  ;  and 

3.  The  American  Woodcock,  Scolopax  Minor. 

The  other  genera,  each  containing  one  species,  are  the 
Recur oirostra,  Avosets  ;  Jlimantopiis,  Stilt ;  and  Nvniniuis, 
Curlew  ;  all  of  which  are  well  known  to  our  fowlers,  though, 
with  the  exception  of  the  last,  all  falsely  termed  Bay  Snipe.  Ob- 
serve,that  the  Red-breasted  Snipe  of  this  family  is  the  only  Snipe 
which  frequents  the  sea-beach  or  salt  marshc  ;  the  other  birds 
so  called  are  Plovers,  Sandj)ipers,  Tatlers,  Turnstones,  Avoscts, 
Phalaropes,  and  others,  whose  names  are  legion  ;  but  not  a 
Snipe  among  them ;  and  even  the  solitary  Red-breasted  Snipe 
lies  under  some  suspicion  of  being  rather  a  connecting  link  be- 
tween the  Snipes,  proper,  and  the  Godwits  and  Tatlers,  than  hint  • 
self  a  pure  Snipe. 


GAME   OF  AMERICA. 


41 


We  now  arrive  at  the  last  order,  Natatores,  swimmers,  of 
whicli,  to  take  cognisance,  under  the  head  of  its  second  family, 
Anatida.  The  second  genus  of  this  family,  Anser^  Goose,  gives 
us  four  species,  though  two,  the  third  and  fourth,  are  far  from 
common.  The  first  and  third  are  decidedly  the  best  of  our  sea 
fowl. 

1.  The  Canada  Goose — Wild  Goose — Anser  Canadensis  ; 

2.  The  Barnacle  Goose,*  Anser  Leucopsis  ; 

3.  The  Brant  Goose — Brant — Anser  Bernicla  ; 

4.  The  White-fuonted  Goose,  Anser  Alblfrons  ;  and 

0.  The  Snow  Goose,  Anser  Ilyperboreus. 

The  third  genus.  Swan,  aflbrds  two  species  to  North  America, 
but  the  second  only  belongs  to  the  Eastern  States  ;  the  Trump- 
eter ranging  on'.y  through  Northern  California  to  the  fur  coun- 
tries, from  westward  of  the  Ohio. 

1.  The  Trumpeter  Swan,  Cycmis  Buccinator  ;  and 

2.  The  American  Swan,  Cycnus  Americanus. 

The  fourth  genus,  Anas,  Duck,  contains  ten  species,  every  one 
of  which,  with  the  exception  of  the  fourth,  is  well  known  to  all 
sportsmen  ;  they  are  of  the  finest  quality  for  the  table,  and  pre- 
ferable to  all  others,  with  tlie  exception  of  the  Canvass  Back, 
and  perhaps  the  Red  Head.     They  are  as  follows  : 

1.  The  Mallard — vulg.  Green  Head — Anas  Boschas  ; 

2.  The  Dusky  Duck — vulg.  Black  Duck — Anas  Obscura  i 

3.  The  Gadwall,  Awts  S I  repent  ; 

4.  Brewi'.k's  Duck,  Anis  Brewerii  ; 

5.  The  Ameuican  Widgeon,  Awis  Americana  ; 

6.  The  Pintail  Duck,  Anas  Acuta; 

7.  The  Wood  Duck,  Summer  Duck,  Anas  Spon.ia  ; 

8.  American  Gueen-winged  Teal,    Anas  CaroUnensia. 

*  I  liavo  my  doubts  wliPtlipr  the  Biirnaclo  and  Brant  aro  not  one  and  the 
same  bird,  though  at  dirtoreut  awes,  and  in  di(I(Toiit  statoH  of  pluinajjo. 


I'h 


■;  1 


ill 


42 


FRANK   forester's   elELV  SPORTS. 


9.  The  Blue-winqed  Teal,*  Anas  Discors,  and 
10.  The  Shoveller,  Anas  Clypeata. 

The  fifth  genus,  Fuligula,  Sea  Duck,  contains  sixteen  species, 
«evera'l  of  which  are  well  known,  and  the  two  first  prominent 
above  their  race.     They  are — 

1.  The  Canvass  Back  Duck,  Fuligula  Valisneria  ; 

2.  The  Red-headed  DucKf — vulg.  Red-head — Fuligula 
Marina  ; 

3.  The  Scaup  Duck,  Fuligula  Mania  ; 

4.  The  Ring-necked  Duck,  Tufted  Duck,  Fuligula  Rufi- 
torques  ; 

5.  The  Ruddy  Duck,  Fuligula  Rubida  ; 

6.  The  Pied  Duck,  Fuligula  Labradora  ; 

7.  The  Velvet  Duck,  Fuligula  Fusca  ; 

8.  The  Surf  Duck,  Fuligula  Perspiculata  ; 

9.  The  American  Scoter,  Fuligula  Americana  ; 

10.  The  Eider  Duck,  Fuligula  MoUissima  ; 

11.  The  Golden-eye  Duck,  Fuligula  Clangula  ; 

12.  The  Bufpel-headed  Duck,  Fuligula.  Albeola  ; 

13.  The  Harlequin  Duck,  Fuligula  Histrionica  ; 

14.  The    Long-tailed    Duck — vulg.  South-southerly  —  Fu- 
ligula Glacialis  ; 

15.  The  King  Duck,  Fuligula  Spectabilis  ;  and 

16.  The  Western  Duck,  Fuligula  Dispar. 

The  sixth  genus,  Mergns^  Merganser,  contains  three  well  known 
species,  which,  commonly  shot  and  of  rare  beauty,  are  all  nearly 
worthless  as  articles  of  food,  so  rank  and  fishy  is  their  flesh. 
They  are,  as  follows  : 

1.  The  Goosandkr — vulg.  Sheldrake — Mergus  Merganser  ; 

2.  The  Ri^.d-bueasted  Merganser,  Mergus  Serrator  ;  and 

3.  The  Hooded  Merganser,  Mergus  Cuculltitus. 

•  I  once  doubted  whether  this  Duck  was  not  identicul  with  the  Gurgu- 
uey  of  Europe,  Jlnas  Querquedula,  but  am  now  satisfied  that  they  are 
distinct  birds. 

t  This  I  believe  to  be  tlie  same  with  tlie  European  Pochard. 


GAME    OP    AMERICA 


43 


iN'ii 


Here  ends  what  may,  I  believe,  be  termed  a  complete  list  of 
all  the  game,  both  quadruped  and  winged,  of  the  United  States 
and  the  Provinces  ;  I  am  not  aware  of  a  single  omission  ;  per- 
haps, indeed,  in  the  latter  portion  of  my  catalogue,  the  fowl  es- 
pecially, I  have  admitted  some  genera,  which  are  of  so  rare 
occurrence  on  the  coast,  as  to  fall  seldom  before  the  gunner's 
aim  ;  and  which,  therefore,  can  hardly  be  enumerated  as  regularly 
game.  I  judged  it,  however,  better  to  err  on  this,  than  on  the 
other  side  of  the  question ;  and  the  error,  if  error  there  be, 
will  be  rectified  when  I  come  to  speak  of  the  various  kinds  of 
shooting,  and  the  habits  of  the  animals  pursued  in  each. 

And  here  I  should,  perhaps,  apologize  to  my  readers  for  the 
apparent  but  necessary  dryness  of  this  part  of  my  work.  A 
catalogue  never  can  be  rendered  entertaining,  and  -'■et  it  is  indis- 
pensable. I  think  I  can  promise  that  future  pages  will  possess  more 
interest  to  the  general  reader,  although  I  should  strenuously 
urge  it  on  him,  who  desires  really  to  make  himself  a  master 
of  the  subject,  not  to  skip  or  slur  over  the  above  list  of  names, 
but  to  fix  them  in  his  understanding  and  his  memory,  as  I  shall 
have  constant  occasion  to  refer  to  them  hereafter,  and  as  a  know- 
ledge of  them  is  al)S()lutely  necessary  to  the  acquisition  of  skill 
and  science  in  field  sports,  in  their  widest  range  and  most  liberal 
signification. 

I  now  come  to  the  subdivisioi.s  of  my  subject,  according  to 
the  different  regions  of  country  to  which  the  dilierent  kinds 
of  shooting  and  hunting,  and  the  difierent  .-jpecies  of  game  be- 
lo..g.     These,  it  appears  to  me,  are  threefold,  chiefly. 

First.  Upland  shooting,  which  may  be  termed  particularly  the 
field  sports  cf  the  Northern  and  Midland  States,  consisting  in  the 
pursuit  of  small  game — as  the  Pinnated  and  Ruffed  Grouse,  the 
(iuail,  the  Woodcock,  the  Snipe,  the  Upland  Plover,  the  Hare, 
the  Rail,  and  one  or  two  species  of  Duck,  which  are  fout'd  only 
on  inland  streams  and  marshes — with  the  double  gun,  and  the 
trained  pointer,  setter,  spaniel,  or  retriever. 

Second.  Fowl  shooting,  whether  from  sailing-boats,  batteries, 
or  otherwise  ;  and.  under  this  head,  I  include  the  killin'^  of  the 


'.'■.J 


i;1ii 


Hi 


r 

1 

1 

n 

1 

; 

f 

1 

iMl 


iiH^' 


ijii 


44 


FRANK    forester's    FIKf-D    SPORTS. 


smaller  coast-birds,  as  Plovers,  Sandpipers,  and  the  like,  over 
stools,  as  they  are  called,  or  decoy  birds. 

Third.  Western  shooting,  which  may  be  termed  hunting,  as 
it  consists  of  the  pursuit  of  the  larger  animals,  as  the  Bison,  the 
Elk,  the  Bear,  the  Deer,  &c.,  either  with  the  aid  of  hounds  or  the 
speed  of  horses,  but  invariably  with  tiie  rifle  instead  of  the  shot- 
gun. Even  the  pursuit  of  the  Turkey  is  a  species  of  still  hunt- 
ing, or  stalking,  rather  than  of  shooting  proper  ;  as  I  never  have 
heard  of  this  bird  lying  to,  or  being  killed  over,  setters,  and 
not  often  of  his  being  shot  on  the  wing,  or  with  the  fowling- 
piece.  I  am,  of  course,  not  unaware  that  all  the  smaller  kinds 
of  eastern  game  abound  to  the  westward,  but  as  the  mode  of 
killing  them,  over  setters  or  pointers,  is  identical  with  that  used 
on  the  seaboard,  and  is  adopted  thence,  tiiat  does  not,  I  think, 
militate  against  the  justice  of  my  distinction. 

Lastly.  The  hunting  of  the  Northern  and  Eastern  States 
must,  I  suppose,  find  a  place  ;  though,  in  truth,  the  deer-hunt- 
ing is  so  idle  and  contemptible,  now-a-days,  in  that  part  of  the 
States,  as  to  he  hardly  worthy  of  notice  ;  while  the  pursuit  of 
the  Moose  and  Cariboo,  although  really  a  grand  field  sport,  and 
a  very  noble  exercise,  requiring  pluck,  power,  wind,  sinew, 
speed,  and  en,durance,  is  so  rare  and  difficult  of  attainment,  as 
to  present  little  attraction  to  the  general  run  of  sjiortsmen. 

Without  farther  comment  I  now  proceed  to  Upland  game  and 
Upland  shooting,  connected  ^\  itii  which  I  shall  discuss,  in  their 
places,  the  use  of  the  fowling-piece,  tlie  art  of  shooting  flying, 
the  breeds,  breeding,  diseases  and  nifinagcment  of  dogs,  and  such 
other  points  as  shall  appear  to  flow  naturally  from  the  subject  ; 
and  this  I  esteem  the  principal  portion  and  better  part  of  the 
work  before  me  ;  and,  as  my  own  especial  hobby  and  chosen 
sport,  I  come  to  d«:il  with  it,  as  a  work  of  love  and  pleasure. 


I*i 


UPLAND  f>HOOTINC. 


45 


UPLAND  SHOOTING 


OF  THE 


NORTHERN  STATES  AND   BRITISH  PROVINCES. 


PL  AND  shooting,  as  it  is  understood  by 
American  sportsmen,  is  the  distinctive 
term,  not,  as  would  appear  at  first  sight, 
dividing  the  sport  of  the  hill  from  that 
of  the  plain  country,  but  that  of  the  in- 
land from  that  of  the  coast.  It  in- 
cludes, therefore,  not  only  all  game  of 
the  order,  Rusores,  the  homo  of  which 
is  in  thickets,  mountain-sides,  stubbles,  or  maize-fields,  but  such 
also  of  the  Grallatores,  or  warders,  as  dwell  either  in  inland 
swampy  woods,  fresh  meadows,  or  river-side  morasses  ;  and,  far- 
ther yet,  such  of  the  Natatores^  swimmers,  as  are  found  exclu- 
sively or  principally  on  brooks,  rivers,  above  tide  water,  and 
spring  marshes. 

By  upland  shooting,  in  a  word,  we  understand  all  that  is  pur- 
sued with  the  aid  of  pointers,  setters,  or  spaniels,  and  tlie  ordin- 
ary light  fowling-piece  ;  as  opposed  to  that  which  is  followed  in 
boats  with  heavy  ducking  guns,  and  by  the  aid  of  decoys,  or,  as 
thny  arc  here  termed,  stools. 

Of  all  f^ports  of  this  country,  therefore,  upland  shooting  is  that 
which  requires  in  the  sportsman  the  greatest  coiiibinati(m  of  qual- 
ities, the  greatest  skill  with  the  gun,  the  greatest  knowledge  of  the 
habits  and  haunts  of  his  game,  the  greatest  science  in  the  manage- 
ment of  his  dogs,  and  the  greatest  bodily  vigor  and  endurance. 


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48  FRANK    FORESTF.lfS    FIELD    SPOKTS. 

The  upland  shooter  of  America  does  not,  cannot,  select  his 
stands,  or  easy  walking  ground,  for  getting  shots  and  killing 
game,  leaving  it  to  his  gamekeeper  or  beaters  to  hunt  his  dogs, 
and  Hush  his  birds  in  the  thicket,  so  that  they  shall  fly  out  before 
his  face — still  less  does  he,  like  the  deer  shooter,  remain  listless 
and  silent  at  his  stand,  until  his  guide,  a  practical  woodman, 
shall  find  the  quarry  and  hunt  it  toward  him,  so  that,  })er- 
chance,  without  walking  fifty  yards  or  making  the  slightest 
exertion,  he  gets  his  point-blank  shot,  and  thinks  it  a  great 
matter  to  have  killed  a  big  helpless  animal,  as  big  as  a  jackass, 
and  as  timid  as  a  calf,  literally  in  the  intervals  between  eating 
bread  and  cheese  and  drinking  brown  stout,  as  he  sits  on  a  moss- 
covered  log  to  leeward  of  the  runawiiy. 

No,  through  the  thickest  alder  swamp,  the  deepest  and  most 
boggy  marsh,  among  tussocks  knee-high,  and  fallen  trees,  and  in- 
terlacing vines  and  cat-briars — along  the  sharp  limestone  ledj2;es 
and  through  the  almost  impervious  growth  of  the  rhododendron 
overcanopied  by  juniper  and  hemlock — over  mile  after  mile  of 
broad,  bare  hill-side  stubbles — through  black  morasses,  intersected 
by  broad  drains — trusting  to  his  own  sure  foot  and  even  stride,  he 
must  toil  on  after  his  game,  the  wildest,  fleetest,  wariest,  and 
sharpest-Hying  of  all  the  fowls  of  the  air,  depending  on  his  own 
knowledge  of  their  seasons  and  their  habits  to  launch  his  trusty 
dogs  into  their  proper  haunts,  at  their  proper  hours  ;  on  his 
management  of  those  dogs  to  flush  them  fairly  within  shot,  and 
on  his  own  eye  and  hand  of  instinct  to  give  a  good  account  of 
them,  when  flushed  witliin  distance. 

The  perfection  to  which  some  men  have  carried  this  art  is 
almost  incredible — the  certainty  with  which  they  will  find  game 
on  the  same  tract  of  land,  with  another  party  who  shall  find  none 
— the  unerring  instinct  with  which  they  will  read  the  slightest 
signs  of  the  weather,  and  comprehend  the  smallest  indications 
of  the  whereabouts  of  their  game — the  riadiness  with  which 
they  will  draw  conclusions  and  positive  deductions  from  signs 
which  to  others  seem  light  as  air — the  facility  with  which  thoy 
understand  their  dogs,  and  their  dogs  them — and  lastly,  theii: 


UPLAND    SHOOTING. 


47 


wonderful  accuracy,  rapidity  and  deliberate  promptitude  of  aim 
and  execution,  backed  as  these  are  by  the  great  improvements 
in  the  art  of  gunnery,  and  by  the  vast  superiority  of  the  percus- 
sion to  the  dint  lock,  are  such  as  would  make  our  ancestors,  of 
a  century  since,  despair  amid  their  admiration — such  as  consti- 
tute the  first-rate  game  shot  on  the  wing,  decidedly  the  greatest 
marksman  and  artist  with  the  gun,  be  the  other  what  he  may. 

For,  without  disparaging  the  beautiful  practice  of  the  ritle  or 
pistol,  it  may  be  alhrmed  safely  that  it  is  merely  mechanical,  and 
attainable  by  every  one  possessed  of  a  steady  hand  and  a  true 
eye;  while  I  know  not  what  of  calculation,  of  intuition,  almost 
of  inspiration,  is  not  needed  to  constitute  a  crack  shot.  As  my 
poor  friend,  Cypress,  Jun.,  said,  in  one  of  his  inimitably  witty 
false  quotations,  purporting  to  be  from  Pliny's  chapter  on  IJhick 
Ducks,  "  Legcre  quidein  ct  scrihcrc  est  pmltgogi,  sed  optime  col- 
lineare  est  Dci,^''  which  he  rendered  somewhat  thus,  "  A  credita- 
ble scholar  can  be  made  by  the  schoolmaster,  but  a  crack  shot 
is  the  work  of  God,"  the  Latinity  being  equal  to  the  truth  of 
the  apopthegm. 

Now,  without  pretending  that  I  can  give  every  person  a  re- 
ceipt whereby  he  can  becom.^  i^  "  crack  shot,"  which  no  one,  I 
believe,  can  be,  unless  he  is  born  to  that  good  eminence,  or  even 
presuming  that  I  can  make  him  a  good  sportsman,  I  shall  pro- 
ceed to  set  down  such  facts  with  regard  to  the  habits  and  haunts, 
the  season"  and  the  instincts  of  game,  as  I  can  dcri*/c  from  the  best 
sources,  wiiii  such  directions  for  the  pursuit  and  killing  of  them 
as  many  years  experience  has  led  me  to  consider  the  most  likely 
to  attain  success. 

And  first  of  all,  we  will  consider  what  animals  come  under  the 
head  of  upland  game,  and  thence  })roceed  to  their  generic  distinc- 
tions and  habits,  as  recorded  by  our  greatest  naturalists,  after 
which  we  shall  be  led  in  due  season  to  my  own  personal  experi- 
ences and  observations. 

Our  upland  game  consists  then,  as  we  find  it  here  m  the 
northern  and  north-eastern  parts  of  North  America,  of  three 
species  of  grouse  proper — one  of  them  very  rare  and  very  rarely 
vou  I.  g 


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48 


FRANK   FORESTER  S   FIELD   SPORTS. 


killed  over  dogs — one  species  of  quail — three  varieties  of  waders ; 
several  species  of  duck,  and  two  of  hares. 

The  grouse  are,  The  Pinnated  Grouse,  Telrao  Cupido,  com- 
monly known  as  the  Pruirie-Heit,  or  Ileal li- Hen. 

Tin;  IluFiED  Grouse,  Telrao  Uinbcl/ti.s,  vulgarly  called  the 
ParlridgK  in  New  England  and  New  York,  and  as  vulgarly  the 
Plieas/iiil  in  New  Jersey  and  Southward. 

The  Canada  Grouse,  Telrao  Canadensis,  commonly  known 
as  the  Spruce  Parlridge. 

1  trust  that  the  remarks  I  have  already  made,  and  the  clearly 
distinctive  proofs  which  I  shall  hereafter  adduce  from  the  best 
ornithologists,  will  lead  sportsmen  to  act  in  earnest  about  reform- 
ing the  sporting  vocabiTlary,  and  eschewing  the  snohbish  and  ig- 
norant provincialism,  or  cockneyism — for  such  it  indeed  is,  of 
calling  Grouse,  "Pheasant  and  Partridge,"  and  thereby  destroy- 
ing all  consistency  in  the  dialect,  and  all  community  in  the  feel- 
ings of  the  sporting  world. 

The  Quail  is,  The  American  Quail,  Ortyx  Virginianaj 
properly  known  in  New  Jersey  and  eastward  as  Quail ;  wrong- 
ly to  the  Southward  as  Parlridge. 

The  Waders  are,  The  American  Woodcock,  Scolopax  Minor, 
sive,  Microptera  Americana — the  latter,  I  conceive,  a  causeless 
distinction  and  subdivision— commonly  called  in  the  country, 
Mud  Snipe,  Blind  Snipe,  and  Big-headed  Snipe  ;  while  its  correct 
name,  Woodcock,  is  often  given  to  the  larger  red-polled  Wood- 
pecker. 

The  American  Snipe,  Gallinago  Wilsoniij  commonly  known 
as  English  Snipe. 

The  Upland  Sandpiper,  Bartram's  Taller,  Tri?iga  Barlra- 
mia,  sive,  Tetanus  Barlramius,  commonly  known  as  the  Upland 
Plover,  Grass  Plover,  or  Frost  Bird. 

The  Ducks,  which  may  be  classed  as  Upland  game,  are  The 
Dusky  Duck,  Anas  Obscura,  commonly  known  as  the  Black 
Duck. 

The  Mallard,  Anas  Boschas,  vulg.  Green  Head. 

The  Green-winged  Teal,  Anas  Carolinensis. 


UPLAND    SHOOTING. 


40 


The  Blue-wingf.d  Teal,  Anas  Discors. 

The  Wood  Duck,  or  SumniT  Duck,  Anas  Sponsa. 

The  Pintail  Duck,  Anas  Acuta,  vulg.  Sprig  Tail,  Pigeon  Tail. 

One  or  two  other  varieties  of  this  family  are  common  either 
to  both  salt  and  fresh  waters,  or  of  so  rare  occurrence  as  to  re- 
quire no  notice  ;  of  the  former  I  will  merely  name  The  Shovel- 
leu,  Anas  C/ypeata,  and  The  Golden  Eye,  Anas  Clangula  :  of 
the  latter.  The  Gadwall,  Anas  Strepera. 

The  Hares  are.  The  Common  American  Hare,  Lepus  Ameri' 
canus,  commonly  and  improperly,  Rabbit. 

The  Northeun  Hare,  Lepus  Virginianus,  vulgarly  and  im- 
properly. White  Rabbit. 

The  Common  Sora  Rail,  Rallus  CaroUnus,  must  be  classed 
under  a  sporting  head,  peculiar  to  itself — as  it  is  shot  from  boats, 
apart  from  any  other  species  of  game,  and  in  dillerent  localities, 
though  in  the  same  manner,  with  some  exceptions,  as  wild  fowl 
on  the  coast. 

With  the  exception  of  the  Wild  Turkey,  which  is  unquestiona- 
bly the  noblest  bird  of  the  order,  Rasores,  and  as  such  the  king  of 
American  game,  the  three  Grouse  which  we  possess  must  take 
the  lead ;  and  first  in  place,  as  in  size  and  honor,  I  assign  the 
palm  to 


THE    PINNATED    GROUSE. 

Tetrao  Cupido — Linn,  Wilson,  Audubon.  La  Gelinotte  Huppei 
d^Amerique — Brissot.  The  Prairie-Hen,  Grouse,  or  Heath- 
Hen. 

"  Male,  18.27i. 

"  Abundant  from  Texas,  throughout  all  the  Western  prairies, 
to  very  high  up  the  Missouri,  Kentucky,  Illinois  and  Ohio  ;  al- 
most extirpated  in  the  ^liddle  and  Eastern  Districts.     Resident, 

«  Adult  Male. 

''  Bill  short,  robust ;  upper  mandible  with  the  dorsal  outline 


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50 


KUANK    FOUESTKU'a    FIELD    SPORTS. 


curved,  tlu-  eilges  overlapping,  the  tip  dedinate*  and  rounded 
Nostrils  basal,  roundish,  concealed  by  the  feathers.  Head 
small,  neck  rather  long,  body  bulky.  Feet  of  ordinary  length, 
tarsus  short-feathered,  toes  covered  above  with  numerous  short 
scutella,!  marginale,;|;  and  pectinate,§  hind  toe  extremely  short, 
two  lateral  equal,  middle  toe  much  longer ;  claws  of  ordinary 
length,  strong,  arched,  rather  obtuse,  concave  beneath. 

"'  Plumage  compact,  the  feathers  generally  broad  and  rounded, 
those  of  the  head  and  neck  narrow,  and  proportionally  shorter, 
excepting  of  the  crown,  which  are  elongated.  Two  tufts  of 
lanceolate  elongated  feathers  on  the  side  of  the  neck,  under 
which  is  an  oblong  bare  space  on  either  side  capable  of  being  in- 
flated. Lower  tibialjl  an<ltarsaltr  feathers  short,  soft  and  blended. 
Wings  short  and  curved,  the  primaries  strong  and  narrow  ; 
fourth  longest,  third  and  fifth  nearly  equal,  second  longer  than 
sixth,  first  much  shorter.  Tail  very  short,  much  rounded,  slop- 
ing on  both  sides,  of  eighteen  broad,  rounded  feathers. 

"  Bill  dusky,  paler  beneath  ;  iris  brown,  toes  dull  yellow, 
claws  grayish  brown  ;  the  general  color  of  the  upper  parts  is 
blackish  brown,  transversely  marked  with  broad,  undulating 
bands  of  light  yellowish  red  ;  the  wing  coverts  and  secondaries 
of  a  lighter  brown,  tinged  with  gray,  and  barred  with  paler  red, 
the  latter  only  on  the  outer  webs  ;  primary  quills  grayish  brown, 
with  black  shafts,  and  spots  of  pale  reddish  on  the  outer  webs, 
excepting  towivrd  the  end.  Tail  dark  grayish  brown,  narrowly 
tipped  with  dull  white,  the  two  middle  feathers  mottled  with 
brownish  red.  Space  from  the  bill  to  the  eye,  a  band  from  the 
lower  mandible  over  the  cheek  and  throat,  pale  yellowish  red  or 
cream  color  ;  a  band  of  blackish  brown  under  the  eye,  including 
the  ear  coverts,  and  another  about  an  inch  and  a  half  long  on 

*  Dedinate — Bent  downward. 

+  Scutella — Scales  overlapping,  like  tiles  or  shingles. 

t  Marginate — Having  margins  or  borders. 

!|  Pectinate — Toothed,  like  a  comb. 

§  Tibial — Belonging  to  the  tibia,  or  thigh. 

^  Tarsal — Belonging  to  the  tarsus,  or  shank. 


-'iS^.^r' 


UPLAND    SHOOTING. 


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the  side  of  the  throat.  Meinliruiie  abuvo  the  eye  scarlet.  Dare 
skin  of  the  soumling  bhuklcr  orange.  The  longest  feathers  of 
the  neck  tuft.s  are  dark  brown  on  the  outer  webs,  pale  yellowish 
red  and  margined  with  dusky  on  the  inner,  excepting  the  low- 
est, which  are  all  brownish  l)!ack.  The  lower  parts  are  marked 
with  large  transverse  curved  bands  of  grayish  brown  and  pale 
yellowish  gray,  the  tints  deeper  on  the  anterior  j)arts  and  under 
the  wings.  Under  tail  coverts  arranged  in  three  sets,  the  mid- 
dle feathers  convex,  involute,  white,  with  two  concealed  brown 
spots  ;  the  lateral  larger,  of  the  same  form,  al)rupl,  variegated 
with  dusky  red  and  while,  the  extremity  of  the  latter  color,  l)ut 
with  a  very  narrow  terminal  margin  of  black.  The  tibial  and 
tarsal  feathers  are  'j;ray,  obscurely  and  minutely  banded  with 
yellowish  brown. 

"  Length  18  inches  ;  extent  of  wings,  27i  ;  bill  along  the 
back,  ji  ;  along  the  edge,  jj;  tarsus,  li  ;  weight,  lib.  13oz. 

"  Adult  female. 

"  The  female  is  consideralily  smaller  than  the  male,  and  wants 
the  crest,  neck-tufts  anil  air-!)ags,  liut  in  other  respects  resembles 
him." — Auduboii's  Birds  of  America. 

Attagen  Americana,  Brissot,  1,  p.  59 — Pinnated  lleath-Cock, 
BonnasaCupiil.i,  Stejth.  Sh.  cont.  11,  p.  2L»9 — Tetrao  Cupido, 
Bonap,  Synop,  p.  120. 

"  Before  I  enter  on  a  detail  of  the  observations  which  I  have 
myself  personally  made  on  this  singular  species,  I  shall  lay  be- 
fore the  reader  a  comprehensive  and  very  circumstantial  memoir 
on  the  subject,  communicated  to  me  by  the  writer.  Dr.  Samuel 
L.  Mitchill,  of  New  York,  whose  exertions  both  in  his  public 
and  private  capacity,  in  behalf  of  science,  and  in  elucidating  the 
natural  history  of  his  country,  are  well  known  and  highly  honor- 
alije  to  his  distinguished  situation  and  abilities.  That  peculiar 
tract,  generally  known  by  the  name  of  the  Brushy  Plains  of  Long 
Island,  having  been  from  time  immemorial  the  resort  of  the  bird 
now  before  us,  some  account  of  this  particular  range  of  country 
seemed  necessarily  connected  with  the  subject,  and  has  accord- 
indy  been  obligingly  attended  to  by  the  learned  Professor  : 


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23  WKST  MAIN  STREIT 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  145M 

(716)t72-4S03 


52 


FRANK    forester's   FIELD    SPORTS. 


(C  i 


New  York,  Sept.  19,  1810. 


; 


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S^i.l 


'"Dear  Sir, — It  gives  me  much  pleasure  to  reply  to  your 
letter  of  the  12th  inst.,  asking  of  me  information  concerning  the 
Grouse  of  Long  Island. 

" '  The  birds,  which  are  known  there  emphatically  by  the  name 
of  Grouse,  inhabit  chiefly  the  forest  range.  This  distdct  of  the 
island  may  be  estimated  as  being  between  forty  and  fifty  miles 
in  length,  extending  from  Bethphage,  in  Queen's  County,  to  the 
neighborhood  of  the  Court-house,  in  Suffolk.  Its  breadth  is  not 
more  than  six  or  seven.  For  though  the  island  is  bounded  by 
the  Sound,  separating  it  from  Connecticut  on  the  north  and  the 
Atlantic  Ocean  on  the  south,  there  is  a  margin  of  several  miles 
on  each  side  in  the  actual  possession  of  human  beings. 

"  '  The  regions  in  which  these  birds  reside  lie  mostly  within  the 
towns  of  Oysterbay,  Huntington,  Islip,  Smithstown  and  Brooklyn; 
though  it  would  be  incorrect  to  say  that  they  were  not  to  be  met 
with  sometimes  in  River  Head  and  Southampton.  This  territory 
has  been  defined  by  some  sportsmen  as  situated  between  Hemp- 
stead Plain  on  the  west  and  Shinnecock  Plain  on  the  east. 

"  '  The  more  popular  name  for  them  is  Heath-Hens.  By  this 
they  are  designated  in  the  act  of  our  Legislature  for  the  preser- 
vation of  them  and  of  other  game.  I  well  remember  the  passing 
of  this  law.  The  bill  was  introduced  by  Cornelius  J.  Bogart, 
Esq.,  a  Member  of  Assembly  from  the  city  of  New  York.  It 
was  in  the  month  of  February,  1791,  the  year  when,  as  a  repre- 
sentative from  my  native  county  of  Queen's,  I  sat  for  the  first 
time  in  Legislature. 

" '  The  statute  declares  among  other  things,  that  "  the  person 
who  shall  kill  any  Heath-Hen  within  the  counties  of  Suffolk  or 
Queen's,  between  the  1st  day  of  April  and  the  5th  day  of  Octo- 
ber, shall  for  any  such  offence  forfeit  and  pay  the  sum  of  two 
dollars  and  a  half,  to  be  recovered  with  costs  of  suit  by  any  per- 
son who  shall  prosecute  for  the  same  befoie  any  Justice  of  the 
Peace  in  either  of  said  counties,  the  one  half  to  be  paid  to  plain- 
tiff and  the  other  half  to  the  overseers  of  the  poor  ;  and  if  any 
Heath-Hen  so  killed  shall  be  found  in  the  possession  of  any  per- 


UPLAND   SHOOTING. 


53 


son,  he  shall  be  deemed  guilty  of  the  ofience  and  suffer  the 
penalty.  But  it  is  provided  that  no  defendant  shall  be  convicted 
unless  the  action  shall  be  brought  within  three  months  after  the 
violation  of  the  law." 

" '  The  country  selected  by  these  exquisite  birds  requires  a  more 
particular  description.  You  already  understand  it  to  be  the 
midland  and  interior  district  of  the  island.  The  soil  of  this 
island  is,  generally  speaking,  a  sandy  or  gravelly  loam.  In  the 
parts  less  adapted  to  tillage,  it  is  more  of  an  unmixed  sand. 
This  is  so  much  the  case,  tbat  the  shore  of  the  beaches  beaten 
by  the  ocean  affords  a  material  from  which  glass  has  been  pre- 
pared. Silicious  grains  and  particles  predominate  in  the  region 
chosen  by  the  Heath-Hens  or  Grouse  ;  and  here  there  are  no 
rocks,  and  very  few  stones  of  any  kind.  This  sandy  tract  ap- 
pears to  be  a  dereliction  of  the  ocean,  but  is  nevertheless  not 
doomed  to  total  sterility.  Many  thousand  acres  have  been  re- 
claimed from  the  wild  state  and  rendered  very  productive  to 
man ;  and  within  the  towns  frequented  by  these  birds,  tbere  are 
numerous  inhabitants,  and  among  them  some  of  our  most 
wealthy  farmers.  But  within  the  same  limits  there  are  also 
tracts  of  great  extent,  where  men  have  no  settlements,  and  others 
where  the  population  is  spare  and  scanty.  These  are,  however, 
by  no  means  naked  deserts  ;  they  are,  on  the-  contrary,  covered 
with  trees,  shrubs  and  smaller  plants.  The  trees  are  mostly 
pitch-pine,  of  inferior  size,  and  white-oaks  of  a  small  growth. 
They  are  of  a  quality  very  fit  for  burning.  Thousands  of  cords 
of  both  sorts  of  fire-wood  are  annually  exported  from  these 
barrens.  Vast  quantities  are  occasionally  destroyed  by  the  fires 
which,  through  carelessness  or  accident,  spread  far  and  wide 
through  the  woods.  The  city  of  New  York  will  probably  for 
ages  derive  fuel  from  these  grounds.  The  land,  after  being  well 
cleared,  yields  to  the  cultivator  poor  crops.  Unless,  therefore, 
he  can  help  it  by  manure,  the  best  disposition  is  to  let  it  grow 
up  to  forest  again. 

" '  Experience  has  proved  that  in  a  term  of  forty  or  fifty  year.**, 
the  new  growth  of  timber  will  be  fit  for  the  axe.     Hence  it  may 


i'"'i 


ii''  i 


!■  I 


h 


i      ,• 


54 


FRANK    forester's    FIELD    SPORTS. 


be  perceived  '.hat  the  reproduction  of  trees,  and  the  protection 
they  afford  to  Heath-Hens,  would  be  perpetual,  or  in  other 
words,  not  circumscribed  by  any  calculable  time,  provided  the 
persecutors  of  the  latter  would  be  quiet.  Beneath  these  trees 
grow  more  dwarfish  oaks,  overspreading  the  surface,  sometimes 
with  here  and  there  a  shrub,  and  sometimes  a  thicket.  These 
latter  are  from  about  two  to  ten  feet  in  height.  When  they  are 
the  principal  product,  they  are  called,  in  common  conversation, 
brush,  as  the  flats  on  which  they  grow  are  termed  brushy  plains. 
Among  this  hardy  shrubbery  may  frequently  be  seen  the  creep- 
ing vegetable,  named  partridge-berry,  covering  the  sand  with  its 
lasting  verdure. 

'* '  In  many  spots  the  plant  which  produces  hurtleberries  sprouts 
up  among  the  other  natives  of  the  soil.  These  are  the  more 
important ;  though  I  ought  to  inform  you,  that  the  hills  reach- 
ing from  east  to  west  and  forming  the  spine  of  the  island,  sup- 
port kalmias,  hickories,  and  many  other  species ;  that  I  have 
seen  azalias  and  andromedas,  as  I  passed  through  the  wilder- 
ness, and  that  Avhere  there  is  water,  cranberries,  alders,  beeches, 
maples,  and  other  lovers  of  moisture,  take  their  stations.  This 
region,  situated  thus  between  the  more  thickly  inhabited  strips 
or  belts  on  the  north  and  south  sides  of  the  island,  is  much  tra- 
velled by  waggons,  and  intersected  accordingly  by  a  great  num- 
ber of  paths. 

"  '  As  to  the  birds  themselves,  the  information  I  possess 
scarcely  amounts  to  an  entire  history.  You  who  know  the  dif- 
ficulty of  collecting  facts,  will  he  most  ready  to  excuse  my 
deficiencies.  The  information  I  give  you  is  such  as  I  rely  on. 
For  the  purpose  of  gathering  the  materials,  I  have  repeatedly 
visited  their  haunts.  I  have  likewise  conversed  with  several 
men  who  were  brought  up  at  the  precincts  of  the  Grouse 
ground,  who  had  been  witnesses  of  their  habits  and  manners, 
who  were  accustomed  to  shoot  them  for  the  market,  and  who 
have  acted  as  guides  for  gentlemen  who  go  the  e  for  sport. 

"  '  Bulk. — An  adult  Grouse,  when  fat,  weighs  as  much  as  a 
barn-door  fowl  of  moderate  size,  or  about  three  pounds  avoirdu- 


UPLAND    SHOOTING. 


&s 


i' 


poise.  But  the  eagerness  of  the  sportsmen  is  so  great,  that  a 
large  proportion  of  those  they  kill  are  hut  a  few  months  old, 
and  have  not  attained  their  complete  growth.  Notwithstanding 
the  protection  of  the  law,  it  is  very  common  to  disregard  it. 
The  retired  nature  of  the  situation  favors  this.  It  is  well  under- 
stood that  an  arrangement  can  be  made  which  will  blind  and 
silence  informers,  and  the  gun  is  fired  with  impunity  for  weeks 
before  the  time  prescribed  in  the  act.  To  prevent  this  unfair 
and  unlawful  practice,  an  association  was  formed  a  few  years 
ago,  under  the  title  of  the  '  Brush  Club,^  with  the  express  and 
avowed  intention  of  enforcing  the  game  law.  Little  benefit, 
however,  has  resulted  from  its  laudable  exertions  ;  and,  under  a 
conviction  that  it  was  impossible  to  keep  poachers  away,  the  so- 
ciety declined. 

"  '  At  present  the  statute  may  be  considered  as  operating  very 
little  towards  their  preservation.  Grouse,  especially  full-grown 
ones,  are  becoming  less  frequent.  Their  numbers  are  gradually 
diminishing  ;  and,  assailed  as  they  are  on  all  sides,  almost  with- 
out cessation,  their  scarcity  may  be  viewed  as  foreboding  their 
eventual  extermination. 

" '  Price, — Twenty  years  ago,  a  brace  of  Grouse  could  be  bought 
for  a  dollar.  They  cost  now  from  three  to  five  dollars.  A 
handsome  pair  seldom  sells  in  the  New  York  market  now-a-days 
for  less  than  thirty  shillings — three  dollars  and  seventy-five 
cents — nor  for  more  than  forty,  five  dollars. 

"  '  These  prices  indicate,  indeed,  the  depreciation  of  money  and 
the  luxury  of  eating.  They  prove  at  the  same  time  that  Grouse 
are  become  rare  ;  and  this  fact  is  admitted  by  every  man  who 
seeks  them,  whether  for  pleasure  or  profit. 

"  '  Ainuurs. — The  season  for  pairing  is  in  March,  and  the  breed- 
ing time  is  continued  through  April  and  May.  Then  the  male 
Grouse  distinguishes  himself  by  a  peculiar  sound.  When  he 
utters  it,  the  parts  about  the  throat  are  sensibly  inflated  and 
swelled.  It  may  be  heard  on  a  still  morning  for  three  or  more 
miles  ;  some  say  they  have  jierceived  it  as  far  as  five  or  six. 
This  noise  is  a  sort  of  ventriloquism.     It  does  not  strike  the  ear 


66 


FRANK    forester's    FIELD  SPORTS. 


I       i.       I 


of  the  bystander  with  much  force,  but  impresses  him  with  the 
idea,  though  produced  within  a  few  rods  of  him,  of  a  voice  a 
mile  or  two  distant.  This  note  is  highly  characteristic.  Though 
very  peculiar,  it  is  termed  tooting^  from  its  resemblance  to  the 
blowing  of  a  conch  as  heard  from  a  remote  quarter. 

"  '  The  female  makes  her  nest  on  the  ground,  in  recesses  very 
rarely  discovered  by  man.  She  usually  lays  from  ten  to  twelve 
eggs.  Their  color  is  of  a  brownish  yellow,  much  resembling  those 
of  a  Guin'ea-Hen.  When  hatched,  the  brood  is  protected  i)y  her 
alone.  Surrounded  by  her  young,  the  mother  bird  much  resem- 
bles a  domestic  Hen  and  Chickens.  She  frequently  leads  them 
to  feed  in  the  roads  crossing  the  woods,  on  the  remains  of  maize 
and  oats  contained  in  the  dung  dropped  by  the  travelling  horses. 
In  that  employment  they  are  often  surprised  by  the  passengers. 
On  that  occasion  the  dam  utters  a  cry  of  alarm.  The  little  ones 
immediately  scamper  to  the  brush,  and  while  they  are  skulking 
into  places  of  safety,  their  anxious  parent  beguiles  the  spectator 
by  drooping  and  fluttering  her  wings,  limping  along  the  path, 
rolling  over  in  the  dirt,  and  other  pretences  of  inability  to  walk 
or  fly. 

" '  Food. — A  favorite  article  of  their  diet  is  the  Heath-Hen  plum 
or  partridge-beny,  before  mentioned  ;  they  also  use  hurtleberries 
or  cranberries.  Worms  and  insects  of  several  kinds  are  occasion- 
ally found  in  their  crops.  But  in  the  winter  they  subsist  chielly 
on  acorns  and  the  buds  of  trees  which  have  shed  their  leaves. 
In  their  stomachs  have  been  sometimes  observed  the  leaves  of  a 
plant  supposed  to  be  a  winter-green  ;  and  it  is  said  when  they 
are  much  pinched,  they  betake  themselves  to  the  buds  of  the 
pine.  In  convenient  places  they  have  been  known  to  enter 
cleared  fields  and  r  jgxle  themselves  on  the  leaves  of  clover,  and 
old  gunners  have  reported  that  they  have  been  known  to  tres- 
pass upon  patches  of  buckwheat  and  peck  up  the  grains. 

"  *  Migration. — They  are  stationary,  and  are  never  known  to  quit 
their  abode.  There  are  no  facts  showing  in  them  any  disposi- 
tion to  migration.  On  frosty  mornings,  and  during  snow,  they 
perch  on  th  ^  upper  branches  of  pine  trees.     They  avoid  wet 


UPr  VND   SHOOTING. 


57 


and  swampy  places,  and  are  remarkably  attached  to  dry  ground. 
The  low  and  open  brush  is  preferred  to  high  and  shrubby  thick- 
ets. Into  these  latter  places  they  fly  for  refuge,  when  closely 
pressed  by  the  hunters ;  and  here,  under  a  stiff"  and  impenetrable 
cover,  they  escape  the  pursuit  of  dogs  and  men.  Water  is  so 
seldom  met  with  on  the  true  GuousE-ground,  that  it  is  necessary 
to  carry  it  along  for  the  pointers  to  drink.  The  flights  of  Grouse 
are  short,  but  sudden,  rapid  and  whirring.  1  have  not  heard  of 
any  success  in  taming  them.  They  seem  to  resist  all  attempts  at 
domestication  In  this,  as  well  as  in  many  other  respects,  they 
resemble  the  Quail  of  New  York,  or  the  Partridge  of  J*enn- 
sylvania 

'* '  Blanners. — During  the  period  of  mating,  and  while  the  fe- 
males are  occupied  in  incubation,  the  males  have  a  practice  of 
assembling  principally  by  themselves.  To  some  select  and  cen- 
tral spot,  where  there  is  very  little  underwood,  they  repair  from 
the  adjoining  district.  From  the  exercises  performed  there, 
this  is  called  a  scratching-place.  The  time  of  meeting  is  the 
break  of  day.  As  soon  as  the  light  appears,  the  company  as- 
sembles from  every  side,  sometimes  to  the  number  of  forty  or 
fifty.  When  the  dawn  is  passed,  the  ceremony  begins  by  a  low 
tooting  from  one  of  the  cocks.  This  is  answered  by  another. 
They  then  come  forth,  one  by  one,  from  the  bushes,  and  strut 
about  with  all  the  pride  and  ostentation  they  can  display.  Their 
necks  are  incurvated,  the  feathers  on  them  are  erected  into  a  sort 
of  ruff;  the  plumes  of  the  tails  are  expanded  like  fans  ;  they 
strut  about  in  a  style  resembling,  as  nearly  as  small  may  be  il- 
lustrated by  great,  the  pomp  of  the  Turkey-Cock.  They  seem 
to  vie  with  each  other  in  stateliness,  and,  as  they  pass  each  other, 
frequently  cast  looks  of  insult  and  utter  notes  of  defiance.  These 
are  the  signals  for  battles.  They  engage  with  wonderful  spirit 
and  fierceness.  During  these  contests,  they  leap  a  foot  or  two 
from  the  ground,  and  utter  a  cackling,  screaming  and  discordant 
cry.  They  have  been  found  in  these  places  of  resort  even  earlier 
than  the  appearance  of  light  in  the  east.  This  fact  leads  to  the 
belief,  that  a  part  of  them  assemble  over  night.  The  rest  join  them 


,f  :, 


S8 


FRANK    FORESTER'S    FIELD    SPORTS. 


in  the  morning.  This  leads  to  the  farther  helief  that  they  roost 
on  the  ground  ;  and  the  opinion  is  confirmed  by  the  discovery  of 
little  rings  of  dung,  apparently  deposited  by  a  flock  which  had 
passed  the  night  together.  After  the  appearance  of  the  sun, 
they  disperse.  These  places  of  exhibition  have  been  often  dis- 
covered by  the  hunters,  and  a  fatal  discovery  it  has  been  for 
poor  Grouse. 

"  'The  destroyers  construct  for  themselves  lurking-holes  made 
of  pine  branches,  called  bough-houses,  within  a  few  yards  of  the 
parade,  and  hither  they  repair  with  their  fowling-pieces,  in  the 
latter  part  of  the  night,  and  wait  the  appearance  of  the  birds. 
Waiting  the  moment  when  two  are  proudly  eyeing  each  other, 
or  engaged  in  battle,  or  when  a  greater  number  can  be  seen  in  a 
range,  they  pour  on  them  a  destructive  charge  of  shot.  This 
annoyance  has  been  given  in  so  many  places,  and  to  such  an  ex- 
tent, that  the  Grouse,  after  having  been  repeatedly  disturbed, 
are  afraid  to  assemble.  On  approaching  the  spot  to  which  their 
instinct  prompts  them,  they  perch  on  the  neighboring  trees,  in- 
stead of  alighting  at  the  scratching-place ;  and  it  remains  to  be 
observed  how  far  the  restless  and  tormenting  spirit  of  the  marks- 
man may  alter  the  nature  and  habits  of  the  Grouse,  and  oblige 
them  to  new  ways  of  life.  They  commonly  keep  together,  in 
coveys  or  packs,  as  the  phrase  is,  until  the  pairing  season.  A 
full  pack  consists,  of  course,  of  ten  or  a  dozen.  Two  packs 
have  been  known  to  associate.  I  lately  heard  of  one  whose 
number  amounted  to  twenty-two.  They  are  so  unapt  to  be 
startled,  that  a  hunter,  assisted  by  a  dog,  has  been  able  to  shoot 
almost  a  whole  pack,  without  making  any  of  them  take  wing. 
In  like  manner,  the  men  lying  in  concealment  near  the  scratch- 
ing-places,  have  been  known  to  discharge  several  guns  before 
either  the  report  of  the  explosion  or  the  sight  of  their  wounded 
or  dead  fellows  would  rouse  them  to  flight.  It  has  been  farther 
remarked  that  when  a  company  of  sportsmen  have  surrounded  a 
pack  of  Grouse,  the  birds  seldom  or  never  rise  upon  their  pin- 
ions while  they  are  encircled  ;  but  each  runs  along  until  it 
passes  the  person  that  is  nearest,  and  then  flutters  off"  with  the 


UPLAND    SIIOOTINQ. 


59 


ntmost  expedition.  As  you  have  made  no  enquiry  of  lue  con- 
cerning tlie  ornithological  character  of  these  birds,  I  have  not 
mentioned  it,  premising  that  you  are  already  perfectly  acquaint- 
ed with  their  classification  and  description.  In  a  short  memoir, 
written  in  1803,  and  printed  in  the  eighth  volume  of  the  il/cf/ica 
Repository,  I  ventured  an  opinion  as  to  the  genus  and  species. 
Whether  I  was  correct  is  a  technical  matter,  which  I  leave  you 
to  adjust.  I  am  well  aware  that  European  accounts  of  our  pro- 
ductions are  often  erroneous,  and  require  revision  and  amend- 
meni.  This  you  must  perform.  For  me  it  remains  to  repeat 
«iy  jry  at  the  opportunity  your  invitation  has  alibrded  me  to 
contribute  somewhat  to  your  elegant  work,  and  at  the  same 
time  to  assure  you  of  my  earnest  hope  that  you  may  be  favored 
with  ample  means  to  complete  it. 

"'Samuel  L.  Mitchill.'" 

"  Duly  sensible  of  the  honor  of  the  foregoing  communication, 
and  grateful  for  the  good  wishes  with  which  it  is  concluded,  I 
shall  now,  in  further  elucidation  of  the  subject,  subjoin  a  few 
particulars,  properly  belonging  to  my  own  department. 

"  It  is  somewhat  extraordinary  •  lot  the  European  naturalists, 
in  their  various  accounts  of  our  dilicri  ;it  species  of  Grouse,  should 
have  said  little  or  nothing  of  the  one  now  before  us,  which  in  its 
voice,  manners,  and  peculiarity  of  plumage,  is  the  most  singular, 
and  in  its  flesh  the  most  excellent  of  all  those  of  its  tribe,  that 
inhabit  the  territory  of  the  United  States.  It  seems  to  have  es- 
caped Catesby,  during  his  residence  and  different  tours  through 
this  country,  and  it  was  not  till  more  than  twenty  years  after  his 
return  to  England,  viz.,  1743,  that  he  first  saw  some  of  these 
birds,  as  he  informs  us,  at  Cheswick,  the  seat  of  the  Earl  of 
Wilmington.  His  lordship  said  they  came  from  America  ;  but 
from  what  particular  part  could  not  tell.  BufFon  has  confounded 
it  with  the  Ruffed  Grouse,  the  Common  Partridge  of  New 
England,  or  Pheasant  of  Pennsylvania,  ( Te/z-ao  Umbellus.) 
Edwards  and  Pennant  have,  however,  discovered  that  it  is  a 
diflerent  species,  but  have  said  little  of  its  note,  of  its  flesh  or 


! 


'M 


it 


I 


■  i'  I 


i'    1 


60 


FRANK   FORESTER  S   FIELD  SPORTS. 


I  1 


i  I': 


peculiarities  ;  for  alas,  there  was  neither  voice  or  action,  nor  de- 
licacy of  flavor  in  the  shrunk  and  decayed  skin  from  which  the 
former  took  his  figure  and  the  latter  his  description  ;  and  to  this 
circumstance  must  be  attributed  the  barrenness  and  defects  of 
both.  Tliis  rare  bird,  though  an  inhabitant  of  dillerent  and 
very  distant  districts  of  North  America,  is  extremely  particular 
in  selecting  his  place  of  residence,  pitching  only  upon  those 
tracts  whose  features  and  productions  correspond  with  his  mode 
of  life,  and  avoiding  immense  intermediate  regions  that  he 
never  visits.  Open,  dry  places,  thinly  interspersed  with  trees,  or 
partially  overgrown  with  shrub-oak,  are  his  favorite  haunts. 
Accordingly,  we  find  these  birds  on  the  GROUSE-plains  of  New 
.Jersey,  in  Burlington  County,  as  well  as  on  the  brushy  plains  of 
Long  Island ;  among  the  trees  and  shrub-oaks  of  Pocano,  in 
Northampton  County,  in  Pennsylvania  ;  over  the  whole  extent  of 
the  barrens  of  Kentucky,  on  the  luxuriant  plains  and  prairies  of 
the  Indiana  and  Upper  Louisiana,  and  according  to  the  informa- 
tion of  the  late  Governor  Lewis,  on  the  vast  remote  plains  of 
the  Columbia  River,  in  all  these  places  preserving  the  same 
singular  habits.  Their  predilection  for  such  situations  will  be 
best  accounted  for  by  considering  the  following  facts  and  circum- 
stances : — First,  their  mode  of  flight  is  generally  direct  and  labo- 
rious— ill  calculated  for  the  labyrinth  of  a  high  and  thick  forest, 
crowded  and  intersected  with  trunks  and  arms  of  trees  that  require 
continual  angular  evolution  of  wing  or  sudden  turnings,  to  which 
they  are  by  no  means  accustomed.  I  have  always  observed 
them  to  avoid  the  high-timbered  groves  that  occur  here  and  there 
in  the  Barrens.  Connected  with  this  fact  is  a  circumstance 
related  to  me  by  a  very  respectable  inhabitant  of  that  county — 
viz.,  that  one  forenoon  a  Cock-GRousE  struck  the  stone  chimney 
of  his  house  with  such  force,  as  instantly  to  fall  dead  to  the 
ground.  Secondly,  their  known  dislike  of  ponds,  marshes,  or 
watery  places,  which  they  avoid,  drinking  but  seldom,  and  it  is 
believed  never  from  such  places.  Even  in  confinement  this 
peculiarity  has  been  taken  notice  of.  While  I  was  in  the  State 
of  Tennessee,  a  person,  living  within  a  few  miles  of  Nashville, 


UPLAND    SHOOTING. 


61 


had  caught  an  old  IIcn-Grouse  in  a  trap,  and  being  obliged  to  keep 
her  in  a  large  cage,  she  struck  and  abused  the  rest  of  the  poul- 
try, he  remarked  that  she  never  drank,  and  that  she  even  avoided 
that  quarter  of  the  cage  where  the  cup  containing  the  water  was 
placed.  Happening  one  day  to  let  some  water  fall  on  the  cage,  it 
trickleil  down  in  drops  along  the  bars,  which  the  bird  no  sooner 
observed  than  she  eagerly  picked  them  olF,  drop  by  drop,  with 
a  dexterity  that  showed  she  had  been  habituated  to  this  mode 
of  quenching  her  thirst,  and  probably  to  this  mode  only,  in  those 
dry  and  barren  tracts,  where,  except  the  drops  of  dew  and 
drops  of  rain,  water  is  very  rarely  to  be  met  with.  For  the 
space  of  a  week  he  watched  her  closely,  to  discover  whether 
she  still  refused  to  drink ;  but,  though  she  wos  constantly  fed 
on  Indian  corn,  the  cup  and  water  still  remained  untouched 
and  untasted.  Yet,  no  sooner  did  he  again  sprinkle  water  on 
the  bars  of  the  cage,  than  she  eagerly  and  rapidly  picked  them 
off,  as  before.  The  last  and  probably  the  strongest  inducement 
to  their  preferring  these  places,  is  the  small  acorn  of  the  shrub- 
oak,  the  strawberries,  huckleberries  and  partridge-berries,  with 
which  they  abound,  and  which  constitute  the  principal  part  of 
the  food  of  these  birds.  These  brushy  thickets  also  afford  them 
excellent  shelter,  being  almost  impenetrable  to  dogs  or  birds  of 
prey.  In  all  those  places  where  they  inhabit,  they  are,  in  the 
strictest  sense  of  the  word,  resident ;  having  their  particular  haunts 
and  places  of  rendezvous — as  described  in  the  preceding  ac- 
count— to  which  they  are  strongly  attached.  Yet  they  have 
been  known  to  abandon  an  entire  tract  of  such  country,  when, 
from  whatever  cause  it  might  proceed,  it  became  again  covered 
with  forest.  A  few  miles  south  of  the  town  of  York,  in  Penn- 
sylvania, commences  an  extent  of  country  fairly  of  the  charac- 
ter described,  now  chiefly  covered  with  wood,  but  still  retaining 
the  name  of  Barrens.  In  the  recollection  of  an  old  man,  born 
in  that  part  of  the  country,  this  tract  abounded  with  Grouse. 
The  timber  growing  up,  in  progress  of  years,  these  birds  totally 
disappeared,  and  for  a  long  period  of  time  he  had  seen  none  of 
them,  until,  migrating  with  his  family  to  Kentucky,  on  entering 


i 


km 


f 


62 


FRANK   FORESTEH  S   FIELD   SPORTS. 


-■! 


Il      ! 


the  Baiiukns,  he  one  morning  recognizeil  the  well-known  music 
of  hi:!<  old  actjuuintancos,  tiio  Grouse,  which,  he  assures  me,  are 
the  very  sumo  with  those  he  had  known  in  Pennsylvania.  But, 
what  appeared  to  mo  the  most  remarkable  circumstance  relative 
to  this  bird,  is,  that  none  of  all  those  writers  who  have  attempted 
its  history,  have  taken  the  least  notice  of  those  two  extraordi- 
nary ba;fs  of  yellow  skin,  which  mark  the  neck  of  the  male,  and 
which  constitute  so  striking  a  peculiarity.  These  appear  to  be 
formed  by  an  expansion  of  the  gullet,  as  well  as  of  tlie  exterior 
skin  of  the  neck,  which,  when  the  bird  is  at  rest,  hangs  in  loose, 
pendulous  wrinkled  folds  along  the  side  of  the  neck,  the  supple- 
mental wings,  at  the  same  time,  as  well  as  when  tiie  bird  is  Hy- 
ing, lying  along  the  neck.  But  when  these  bags  are  inllated 
with  air,  in  breeding-time,  they  are  equal  in  size,  and  very 
much  resemble  in  color  a  middle-sized,  fully-ripe  orange.  By 
means  of  this  curious  apparatus,  which  is  very  observable  seve- 
ral hundred  yards  off,  he  is  enabled  to  produce  the  extraordinary 
sound  mentioned  above,  which  though  it  may  easily  be  imitated, 
is  yet  dilficult  to  describe  by  words.  It  consists  of  three  notes 
of  the  same  tone,  resembling  those  produced  by  the  Nigiit- 
Hawks,  in  their  rapid  descent,  each  strongly  accented,  the  latter 
being  twice  as  long  as  the  others.  When  several  are  thus  en- 
gaged, the  ear  is  unable  to  distinguish  the  regularity  of  those 
triple  notes,  there  being  at  such  times  one  continued  humming, 
which  is  disagreeable  and  perplexing,  from  the  impossibility  of 
ascertaining  from  what  distance  or  quarter  it  proceeds.  While 
uttering  this,  the  bird  exhibits  all  the  ostentatious  gesticulations 
of  a  Turkey-cock,  erecting  and  fluttering  his  neck-wings,  wheel- 
ing and  passing  before  the  female,  and  close  before  his  fellows, 
as  in  defiance.  Now  and  then  are  heard  some  rapid,  cackling 
notes,  not  unlike  that  of  a  person  tickled  to  excessive  laughter  ; 
and,  in  short,  one  can  scarcely  listen  to  them  without  feeling 
disposed  to  laugh  from  sympathy.  These  are  uttered  by  the 
the  males,  Avhile  engaged  in  fight,  on  which  occasion  they  leap 
up  against  each  other,  exactly  in  the  manner  of  Turkies,  seem- 
ngly  with  more  malice  than  effect.     This  humming  continues 


UPLAND   SlIOOTINQ. 


03 


k'S, 


!r 


the 
im- 


from  a  little  before  day-break  to  eigbt  or  iiiiio  o'clock  in  the 
tiiornini^,  wbon  the  purtios  separate  to  seek  for  food. 

"  Frcsli-plouglicd  field  1  in  the  vicinity  of  their  resorts  are 
sure  to  be  visited  by  these  birds,  every  morning,  and  frequently 
also  in  the  evening.  On  one  of  these  I  counted,  at  one  time, 
seventeen  mules,  most  of  whom  were  in  the  attitude  repre- 
sented, making  such  a  continued  sound  as,  I  am  persuaded, 
might  have  been  heard  more  tban  a  mile  olF.  The  peoj)le  of 
the  Daruens  informed  me  that  when  the  weather  becomes  se- 
vere, with  snow,  they  approach  the  barn  and  farm-house,  and 
are  sometimes  seen  sitting  on  the  fields  in  the  Indian  corn,  seem- 
ing almost  domesticated.  At  such  times  great  numbers  are  taken 
in  traps.  No  pains,  however,  on  regular  plans,  have  ever  been 
persisted  in,  as  far  as  I  was  informed,  to  domesticate  these 
delicious  birds.  A  Mr.  Reid,  who  lives  between  the  Pii.ot- 
Knobs  and  Bairdstown,  told  me  that,  a  few  years  ago,  one  of  his 
sons  found  a  Grouse's  nest,  with  fifteen  eggs,  which  he  brought 
home  and  immediately  placed  beneath  a  hen  then  sitting,  tak- 
ing away  her  own.  The  nest  of  the  Grouse  was  on  the 
ground,  under  a  tussock  of  long  grass,  formed  with  very  little 
art  and  few  materials.  The  eggs  were  brownish  white,  and 
about  the  size  of  a  pullet's.  In  three  or  four  days,  the  whole 
were  hatched.  Instead  of  following  the  Hex,  they  compelled 
her  to  move  after  them,  distracting  her  with  the  extent  and  di 
versity  of  their  wanderings  ;  and  it  was  a  day  or  two  before  they 
seemed  to  understand  her  language,  or  consent  to  be  guided  by 
her.  They  were  let  out  to  the  fields,  where  they  paid  little 
regard  to  their  nurse,  and,  in  a  few  days,  only  three  of  them  re- 
mained. These  became  exceedingly  tame  and  familiar,  were 
most  expert  fly-catchers,  but  soon  after  they  also  disappeared. 

"  On  dissecting  these  birds,  the  gizzard  was  found  extremely 
muscular,  having  almost  the  hardness  of  a  stone ;  the  heart 
remarkably  large ;  the  crop  was  filled  with  briar-knots,  con- 
taining the  larvse  of  some  insect,  quantities  of  a  species  of 
green  lichen,  small,  hard  seeds,  and  some  grains  of  Indian  Corn." 
—  Wihnn''s  Am.  Ornith. 

.  VOL.   I.  7 


04 


FRANK    FORESTKR's    FIELD    SPORTS. 


Noxt  to  this  fine  bird,  both  in  his  game  qualities   and   the 
excellence  of  his  llesb,  I  note,  unhesitatingly, 

THE    RUFFED    GROUSE. 


:    I 


Tetrao  UmbeUns.  Linn :   Wilson :  Audubon.  La  GcHnotte  Hup- 
pce  de  Pcnnsylvanie.     Brissot. —  The  Pheasant,  or  Partridtie. 

"  Male,  18.24. 

''  Common  from  Maryland  to  Labrador,  and,  in  the  interior, 
from  the  mountainous  districts  to  Canada  and  theJashatchewan, 
Columbian  River.     Resident. 

"  Adult  Male. 

"  Bill  short,  robust,  slightly  arched,  rather  obtuse  ;  the  base 
covered  by  feathers  ;  upper  mandible,  with  the  dorsal  outline, 
straight  in  the  feathered  part,  convex  toward  the  end,  the  edges 
overlapping,  the  tip  declinate;  under  mandible  somewhat  bulg- 
ing toward  the  tip  ;  the  sides  convex.  Nostrils  concealed  among 
the  feathers.  Head  and  neck  sm.all.  Body  bulky.  Feet  of  or- 
dinary length.  Shank  feathered,  excepting  at  the  lower  part  in 
front,  where  it  is  scutellate,  spurless  ;  toes  scutellate  above,  pec- 
tinate on  the  sides  ;  claws  arched,  depressed,  obtuse. 

"  Plumage  compact,  glossy.  Fe.ithers  of  head  narrow,  and 
elongated  into  a  curved  tuft.  A  large  space  on  the  neck  desti- 
tute of  feathers,  but  covered  by  an  erectile  rutF  of  elongated  fea- 
thers, of  which  the  upper  are  silky,  shining,  and  curved  forward  at 
the  end,  which  is  very  broad  and  rounded.  Wings  short,  broad, 
curved,  and  much  rounded.  Tail  long,  ample,  rounded,  of 
eighteen  feathers. 

"  Bill  brown  color,  brownish-black  toAvard  the  tip.  Iris  hazel. 
Feet  yellowish-gray.  Upper  j)art  of  the  head  and  wing  part 
of  the  neck  bright  yellowisii-red.  Back  rich  che^nut,  marked 
with  oblong  white  spots,  margined  with  black. 

"  Tail  reddish-yellow,  barred  and  minutely  mottled  with  black, 
and  terminated  by  a  broad  band  of  the  latter  color,  between  two 
narrow  bands  of  bluish-white,  of  which  the  one  is  terminal.     A 


t% 


UPLAND    SHOOTING. 


66 


yellowish  band  from  the  upper  mandible  to  vhe  eye,  beyond 
which  it  is  prolonged.  Throat  and  lower  part  of  the  nock  light 
brownish-yellow.  Lower  rulf  feathers  of  the  same  color,  barred 
with  reddish-brown  ;  the  upper  black,  with  blue  redcctions.  A 
tuft  of  light  cbesnut  feathers  under  the  wings.  The  rest  of  the 
under  j)aits  yellowish-white,  with  broad,  transverse  spots  of 
brownish-red  ;  the  abdomen  yellowish-red  ;  and  the  under  tail 
coverts  mottled  with  brown. 

"  Length,  IS  inches  ;  extent  of  wings,  2  feet ;  bill,  along  the 
ridge,  J  ;  along  the  gap,  1,'^  ;  shank,  IJ^;  middle  toe,  1;'. 

"  Adult  female. 

"  The  plumage  of  the  female  is  less  developed,  and  inferior  in 
beauty.  The  feathers  of  the  head  and  rulf  are  less  elongated  ; 
the  latter  of  a  dull  black.  The  tints  of  the  plumage  generally 
are  lighter  than  in  the  male. 

"  The  eggs  usually  measure  an  inch  and  a  half  in  length,  by 
an  inch  and  two-twelfths  in  breadth,  and  are  of  an  uniform  dull 
yellowish  tint." — Auduboii's  Birds  of  America. 

"  This  is  the  Partridoe  of  the  Eastern  States,  and  the  Phea- 
sant of  Pennsylvania  and  the  Southern  Districts.  It  is  represent- 
ed as  it  was  faithfully  copied  from  a  i)erfect  and  very  beautiful 
specimen.  This  elegant  species  is  well  known  in  almost 
every  quarter  of  the  United  States,  and  appears  to  inhabit 
a  very  extensive  range  of  country.  It  is  connnon  at  Moose 
Fort,  on  Hudson's  Bay,  in  lat.  51°,  is  frequent  in  the 
upper  parts  of  Georgia,  very  abundant  in  Kentucky,  and 
the  Indiana  Territory,  and  was  found  by  Capts.  Lewis  and 
Clark  in  crossing  the  great  range  of  niountains  that  divide 
the  waters  of  the  Columbia  and  Missouri  more  than  three 
thousand  miles,  by  the  measurement,  from  the  mouth  of  the 
latter.  Its  favorite  places  of  resort  are  high  mountains,  cov- 
ered with  the  balsam,  pine,  hemlock,  and  other  evergreens. 
Unlike  the  Pinnated  Grouse,  it  always  prefers  the  woods,  is 
seldom  or  never  found  in  open  plains,  but  loves  the  pine-shel- 
tered declivities  of  mountains  near  streams  of  water. 


^!| 


ir^ 


i. 


I 


! 


I 


■Li 


66 


FRANK    FCKESTEr's    FIELD    SPORTS. 


'  This  great  difference  of  disposition  in  two  species  whose  food 
seems  to  be  nearly  the  same,  is  very  extraordinary.  In  those 
open  plains  called  the  Barrens,  in  Kentucky,  the  Pinnated 
Grouse  was  seen  in  great  numbers,  but  none  of  the  Ruffed. 
While  in  the  high  groves  with  which  this  singular  tract  of  coun- 
try is  interspersed,  the  latter,  or  Pheasant,  was  frequently  met 
with,  but  not  a  single  individual  of  the  former.  The  native  haunts 
of  the  Pheasant,  being  a  cold,  high,  mountainous,  and  woody 
country,  it  is  natural  to  expect  that  as  we  descend  from  thence 
to  the  sea  shores,  and  the  low,  flat,  and  warm  climate  of  the 
Southern  States,  these  birds  should  become  more  rare,  and 
such  is  indeed  the  case.  In  the  low  parts  of  Carolina,  and  Geor- 
gia, and  Florida,  they  ar&  very  seldom  observed,  but  as  we 
advance  inland  to  the  mountains,  they  again  make  their  appear- 
ance. In  the  low  parts  of  New  Jersey  we  indeed  occasionally 
meet  with  them,  but  this  is  owing  to  the  more  northerly  situa- 
tion of  the  country,  for  even  here  they  are  far  less  numerous 
than  among  the  mountains.  Dr.  Burton,  and  several  other 
English  writers,  have  spoken  of  a  Long-tailed  Grouse,  said  to 
inhabit  the  back  parts  of  Virginia,  which  can  be  no  other  than 
the  present  species  ;  there  being,  as  far  as  I  am  acquainted,  only 
these  two,*  the  Ruffed  and  Pinnated  Grouse,  found  natives  within 
the  United  States.  The  manners  of  the  Pheasant  are  solitary, 
they  are  seldom  found  in  coveys  of  more  than  four  or  five  together, 
and  more  usually  in  pairs,  or  singly.  They  leave  their  seques- 
tered haunts  in  the  woods  early  in  the  morning,  and  seek  the 
path  or  road  to  pick  up  gravel,  and  glean  among  the  droppings 
of  the  horses.  In  travelling  among  the  mountains  that  bound 
the  Susquehanna,  I  was  always  able  to  furnish  myself  with  an 
abundant  supply  of  these  birds  without  leaving  the  path.  If  the 
weather  be  foggy  or  lowering,  they  are  sure  to  be  seen  in  such 
situations.  They  generally  move  along  with  great  stateliness, 
the  broad,  fan-like  tail  spread  out. 

"  The  drumming,  as  it  is  usually  called,  of  the  Pheasant, 
is  another  singularity  of  this  species.     This  is  performed  by  the 

•  This  is,  of  course,  an  error  of  Wilson's. 


UPLAND    SHOOTING.  0/ 

male  alone.  In  walking  through  the  solitary  woods  frequented 
by  these  birds,  a  stranger  is  surprised  by  suddenly  hearing  a 
kind  of  thumping,  very  similar  to  that  produced  by  striking  two 
full-blown  ox-bladders  together,  but  much  louder ;  the  strokes 
at  first  are  slow  and  distinct,  but  gradually  increase  in  rapidity, 
till  they  run  into  each  other  :  resembling  the  rumbling  sound  of 
very  distant  thunder  dying  away  gradually  on  the  ear.  After  a 
few  minutes'  pause,  this  is  again  repeated,  and  in  a  calm  day 
may  be  heard  nearly  a  mile  olF.  This  drumming  is  most  com- 
mon in  spring,  and  is  the  call  of  the  cock  to  a  favorite  female. 
It  is  produced  in  the  following  manner  :  The  bird,  standing  on 
an  old  prostrate  log,  generally  in  a  retired  and  sheltered  situa- 
tion, lowers  his  wings,  erects  his  expanded  tail,  contracts  his 
throat,  elevates  the  two  tufts  of  feathers  on  the  neck,  and 
inflates  his  whole  body  something  in  the  manner  of  a  Turkey- 
cock,  strutting  and  wheeling  about  in  great  stateliness.  After  a 
few  manoeuvres  of  this  kind  he  begins  to  strike  with  his  stiffened 
wings  in  short  and  quick  strokes,  which  become  more  and  more 
rapid  until  they  run  into  each  other,  as  has  been  already  describ- 
ed. This  is  most  common  in  the  morning  and  evening,  though  I 
have  heard  them  drumming  at  all  hours  of  the  day.  By  means 
of  this,  the  gunner  is  led  to  his  retreat,  though  to  those  unac- 
quainted with  the  sound  there  is  great  deception  in  the  supposed 
distance,  it  generally  appearing  to  be  much  nearer  than  it  really 
is.  The  Pheasant*  begins  to  pair  in  Aprii,,  and  builds  its  nest 
early  in  May.  This  is  placed  on  the  ground  at  the  root  of  a 
bush,  old  log,  or  other  sheltered  or  solitary  situation,  well-sur- 
rounded with  withered  leaves.  Unlike  that  of  the  Quail,  it  is 
open  above,  and  is  usually  composed  of  dry  leaves  and  grass. 
The  eggs  are  from  nine  to  fifteen  in  number,  of  brownish-white, 
without  any  spots,  and  nearly  as  large  as  those  of  a  Pullet.  The 
young  leave  the  nest  as  soon  as  hatched,  and  are  directed  by  the 
cluck  of  the  mother,  very  much  in  the  manner  of  the  common 
Hen.  On  being  surprised,  she  exhibits  all  the  distress  and  affec- 
tionate manoeuvres  of  the  Quail,  and  most  other  birds,  to  lead  yoa 

•  All  error !    The  RiitTed  flrotiso  is  polygamous,  and  docs  not  pair  at  all. 


i!i 


,  I 


68 


KRANK    FOKESTKK's    FIKLD    SPORTS. 


ir 


away  from  the  spot.  I  once  started  a  Hen  Pheasant  with  a 
single  young  one,  seemingly  only  a  few  days  old  ;  there  might 
have  been  more,  but  1  observed  only  this  ort«.  The  mother 
fluttered  before  me  for  a  moment,  but  suddenly  darted  towards 
the  young  one,  seized  it  in  her  bill,  and  llcw  off  along  the  sur- 
face through  the  woods  with  great  steadiness  and  rapidity,  till 
she  was  beyond  my  sight,  leaving  me  in  great  surprise  at  the 
incident.  I  made  a  very  close  and  active  search  around  the  spot 
for  the  rest,  but  without  success.  Here  was  a  striking  instance 
of  something  more  than  what  is  termed  blind  instinct,  in  this 
remarkable  deviation  from  her  usual  manoeuvres  when  she  has 
a  numerous  brood.  It  would  have  been  impossible  for  me  to 
have  injured  the  aifectionate  mother  who  had  exhibited  such  an 
example  of  presence  of  mind,  reason,  and  sound  judgment  as 
must  have  convinced  vhe  most  bigoted  advocate  of  mere  instinct. 
To  carry  off  a  whole  brood  in  this  manner  at  once,  would  have 
been  impossible,  and  to  attempt  to  save  one  at  the  expense  of  the 
the  rest,  would  be  unnatural.  She,  therefore,  usually  takes  the 
only  possible  mode  of  saving  them  in  that  case,  by  decoying  the 
person  in  pursuit  of  herself,  by  such  a  natural  imitation  of  lameness 
as  to  impose  on  most  people.  But  here,  in  the  case  of  a  single, 
solitary  young  one,  she  instantly  altered  her  plan,  and  adopted 
the  most  simple  and  effectual  means  for  its  preservation.  The 
Pheasant  usually  springs  within  a  few  yards,  with  a  loud  whir- 
ring noise,  and  flies  Avith  great  vigor  through  the  woods,  beyond 
reach  of  view,  before  it  alights.  With  a  good  dog,  however, 
they  are  easily  found,  and  at  some  times  exhibit  a  singular 
degree  of  infatuation,  by  looking  down  from  the  branches  where 
they  sit,  on  the  dog  below,  who,  the  more  noise  he  keeps  up, 
seems  the  more  to  confuse  and  stupify  them,  so  that  they  may 
be  shot  down  one  by  one  till  tho  whole  are  killed,  without 
attempting  to  fly  off.  In  such  cases,  those  on  the  lower  limbs 
must  be  taken  first ;  for  should  the  upper  be  first  killed,  in  their 
fall  they  alarm  those  below,  who  immediately  fly  off.  In  deep 
snows  they  are  usually  taken  in  traps,  commonly  dead  traps, 
supported  by  a  figure  4  trigger.     At  this  season,  when  suddenly 


Ul'LAND    SHOOTING. 


69 


M: 


alarmed,  tliey  frequently  dive  into  the  snow,  particularly  when 
it  has  newly  fallen,  and  coming  out  at  a  considerable  distance, 
again  take  wing.  They  are  pretty  hard  to  kill,  and  will  often 
carry  olF  a  large  load  to  the  distance  of  two  hundred  yards,  and 
drop  down  dead.  Sometimes  in  the  depth  of  winter  they  ap- 
proach the  farm-house,  and  lurk  near  the  barn  or  about  the 
garden.  They  have,  also,  been  often  taken  young,  antl  tamed, 
so  as  to  associate  with  the  fowls  ;  and  their  eggs  have  freiiuently 
been  hatched  under  the  common  Hen,  but  these  rarely  survive 
until  full  grown.  They  are  exceedingly  fond  of  the  seeds  of 
grapes,  occasionally  eat  ants,  chesnuts,  blackberries,  and  vari- 
ous vegetables.  Formerly  they  were  numerous  in  the  immedi- 
ate vicinity  of  Philadelphia,  but  as  the  woods  were  cleared,  and 
population  increased,  they  retreated  to  the  interior.  At  present 
there  are  very  few  to  be  found  within  several  miles  of  the  city, 
and  those  only  singly  in  the  most  solitary  and  retired  woody 
recesses.  The  Pheasant  is  in  best  order  for  the  table  in  Sep- 
tember and  October.  At  this  season  they  feed  chielly  on  wor- 
tleberries,  and  the  little  aromatic  partridgeberries,  the  last  of 
which  give  the  llesh  a  peculiar  delicate  flavor.  With  the  former, 
our  mountains  are  literally  covered  from  August  to  November,  and 
these  constitute  at  that  season,  the  greater  part  of  their  food. 
During  the  deep  snows  of  winter  they  have  recourse  to  the  buds 
of  alder,  and  the  tender  buds  of  laurel.  I  have  frequently  found 
their  crops  distended  with  a  large  handful  of  these  latter  alone, 
and  it  has  been  confidently  asserted  that  after  being  fed  for  some 
time  on  the  laurel  buds,  the  llesh  becomes  highly  dangerous  to 
eat  of,  partaking  of  the  poisonous  qualities  of  the  plant.  The 
same  has  been  asserted  of  the  flesh  of  the  deer,  when,  in  severe 
weather  and  deep  snows  they  subsist  on  the  leaves  and  bark  of 
the  laurel.  Though  I  have  myself  ate  freely  of  the  flesh  of  the 
Pheasant,  after  emptying  it  of  large  quantities  of  laurel  buds, 
without  experiencing  any  bad  consequences  ;  yet  from  the  re- 
spectability of  those,  some  of  them  eminent  physicians,  who 
have  particularized  cases  in  which  it  has  proved  deleterious  and 
even  fatal,  I  am  inclined  to  believe  in  certain  cases,  wnere  this 


'  I 


^OR 


^    ., 


iitt 


*l:ii 


70 


FRANK    FORESTER'S    FIELD    SPORTS. 


kind  of  food  has  been  long  continued,  and  the  birds  allowed  to 
remain  undraM  n  for  several  days,  until  the  contents  of  the  crop 
and  stomach  have  had  time  to  difiuse  themselves  through  the 
flesh,  as  is  too  often  the  case,  it  may  be  unwholesome,  and  even 
dangerous.  Great  numbers  of  these  birds  are  brought  to  our 
markets  at  all  times  during  fall  and  winter,  some  of  which  are 
brought  from  a  distance  of  more  than  a  hundred  miles,  and  have 
been  probably  dead  a  week  or  two,  unpicked  and  undrawn, 
before  they  are  purchased  for  the  table. 

"  Regulations  prohibiting  them  from  being  brought  to  market, 
unless  picked  and  drawn,  would  very  probably  be  a  sufficient 
security  against  all  danger.  At  these  inclement  seasons,  how- 
ever, they  are  lean  and  dry,  and,  indeed,  at  all  times,  their  flesh 
is  far  inferior  to  that  of  the  Pinnated  Grouse.  They  are  usually 
sold  in  Philadelphia  market  at  from  three-quarters  of  a  dollar 
to  a  dollar  and  a  quarter  a  pair, — sometimes  higher." — Wilson's 
Am.  Ornith. 

The  last  of  this  species  which  it  is  worth  our  while  to  notice 
as  a  sporting  bird,  is  the  Canada  Grouse,  and  even  it,  although 
Mr.  Audubon  speaks  of  it  as  abundant  in  parts  of  Maine,  and 
although  it  unquestionably  exists  in  the  north-eastern  angle  of 
New  York,  is  so  rarely  met,  and  so  shy,  as  to  be  known  to  very 
few  of  our  sportsmen. 

The  Willow  Gpouse,  or  Willow  Ptarmigan,  perhaps  the 
most  beautiful  of  all  the  American  species,  and  perhaps  to  be 
met  with  in  the  extreme  north  of  Maine,  is  too  uncommon  to  be 
classed  as  game.  I  fear,  indeed,  that  few  of  my  readers  will 
ever  have  the  good  fortune  to  kill  the  beautiful  little  Grouse  of 
which  we  are  now  speaking.  I  doubt  whether  it  would  ever  lie 
to  dogs.     It  is  a  solitary  forest  bird. 


■^  ', 


ill..;   '     t;  "   !i  I  '       III 


<•     II-       !.■ 


Ml 


•i(,;; 


:l  r   I 


M.-l:  It 


li'-    S*  !  1.! 


.1  '     'l '  '  I  .  1 . 


lUt-  .     a 


•II'  i  v*|.Ti.,     1  .;,!■• 


M'.     s:v  :i,.;;iiiC.      I  i 
i  !.o  il r I"."  l,.>i'^'.-^t  i)i 


v;  'i •:    iV 


!  m 


■I    I 


1    '  I 


M 


■M^i 


UPLAND   SHOOTING. 


71 


THE   CANADA    GROUSE. 


Tetrao    Canadensis.     Linn :    Bonaparte :    Audubon.     Spottf.d 
Grouse  ;  Franklin^s  Grouse  ;  Spruce  Partridge. 

"  Male,  15J.21J.     Female,  15i.21. 

"  Plentiful  from  the  Northern  parts  of  New  York  to  Labra- 
dor, as  well  as  from  Canada  to  the  Arctic  Sea,  Columbia  River. 
Partially  migratory  in  winter. 

"  Adult  Male. 

"  Bill  short,  robust,  slightly  arched,  rather  obtuse ;  the  base 
covered  by  feathers ;  upper  mandible  with  the  dorsal  outline 
convex  toward  the  end — the  edges  sharp  and  overhanging — the 
tip  declinate ;  lower  mandible  slightly  convex  in  its  dorsal  out- 
line ;  the  back  broad  and  rounded;  the  sides  sloping  outward  ; 
the  tip  rather  rounded.  Nostrils  basal,  lateral,  concealed  by  the 
short  feathers.  Head  small ;  neck  of  ordinary  length  ;  body 
full.  Feet  short,  rather  small ;  tarsus  short,  roundish,  feathered. 
Toes  scutellate  above,  broadly  margined  and  pectinate  ;  the  an- 
terior ones  connected  by  a  web  at  the  base  ;  the  hind  toe  very 
small,  the  two  lateral  about  equal,  the  middle  one  much  longer  ; 
claws  short,  arched,  compressed,  rather  obtuse. 

"  Plumage  compact,  slightly  glossed.  Feathers  of  the  head 
very  short.  Wings  short,  broad,  much  rounded  and  curved,  the 
third  quill  longest,  the  fourth  next,  the  second  and  fifth  nearly 
equal,  the  first  very  short.  Tail  ample,  of  ordinary  length, 
rounded,  of  sixteen  broad  rotundate  truncate*  feathers,  having  a 
minute  mucio. 

"  Bill  and  claws  brownish  black,  Irisf  hazle.  Fringed  mem- 
brane over  the  eyes,  vermillion.  Toes  purplish  gray.  Upper 
plumage  and  flanks  brownish  black,  transversely  barred  with 
brownish  gray ;  the  tip  of  each  feather  with  two  bars  of  the  lat- 
ter color ;  on  the  hind  parts  the  bars  are  larger,  and  the  pale 

•  Truncate — Cut  off  short  and  abruptly, 
t  Iris— The  circle  about  the  pupil  of  tho  eye. 


r-*" 


..iji  m 


I  'i 


ia 


FUANK    rOKtMTKR^S    FIELD    81>0KTd. 


ones  iiKtru  tiiiji;ed  with  brown,  (juills  and  liir;.;ci  reverts,  hliick- 
ish  brown,  llie  outer  etlj^es  oftlio  primaries  pale  brownish  };iay, 
and  tlioso  of  the  sei;ondaries  minutely  mottled  with  the  same. 
Tail  coverts  brownish  l)lack,  minutely  mottled  and  tipped  with 
grayish  white ;  tail  feathers  darker,  and  tipped  with  dull  brown- 
ish red.  Jiower  parts  black,  the  feathers  on  the  throat  havin<; 
a  white  spot  near  the  end  ;  those  of  the  lower  and  lateral  parts 
of  the  neck  unspotted  ;  of  the  breast,  with  a  broad,  subterminal 
spot,  and  the  under  tail  coverts  largely  tipped  with  white.  Inner 
wing  covorts  above  brown,  the  proximal  and  axillaries  tipped 
with  white. 

"Length,  1.5J  inches;  extent  of  wings,  21j  ;  bill,  along  the 
back,  yj;  along  the  edge,  l^^  ;  tarsus,  1]  ;  weight,  17oz. 

"  Adult  female. 

"  The  female  is  not  much  smaller.  The  superciliary  mem- 
brane is  much  less,  but  of  the  same  color.  The  upper  parts  are 
nearly  of  the  same  tints,  but  more  broadly  barred  ;  the  head, 
sides  of  the  neck,  fore  neck,  and  anterior  parts  of  the  breast, 
yellowish  gray,  barred  with  brownish  black ;  the  lower  parts, 
grayish  black,  barred  with  reddish  white.  The  tail  is  minutely 
tipped  and  mottled  with  brownish  red.  The  younger  females 
have  more  of  the  yellowish  red  tints  than  the  old  ones.  In  other 
respects,  the  coloring  is  nearly  similar. 

"Length,  15j  inches;  extent  of  wings,  21  ;  weight,  15oz."- 
Audiibon. 

Inasmuch  as  this  rare  and  beautiful  little  species  of  Grouse  is 
almost  entirely  unknown  to  our  sportsmen,  as  I  have  never 
found  any  who  have  killed  it,  and  very  few  who  are  aware  of 
its  existence ;  and  as,  with  a  single  exception,  I  have  never  but 
once  shot  it,  though  I  have  on  several  occasions  tried  for  it  in 
the  State  of  Maine,  on  the  waters  of  the  Penobscot,  I  cannot 
speak  as  to  its  habits  or  haunts  with  any  certainty,  from  my  own 
personal  experience,  or  from  the  report  of  sportsmen.  I  am  in- 
clined to  believe,  however,  that  it  is  not  a  bird  which  will  be 
found  to  yield  much  sport,  as  I  doubt  its  lying  to  setteid  or 


Ul'LAND    StlOOIINQ. 


73 


pointers,  or  boiii;;  met  with  in  siiinciciit  nuruhcr!)  to  render  tlie 
pursuit  of  it  plousurahlo  or  oxi'iliii.:. 

Tiio  sin;^lo  spoi'iinoii  whicli  1  killeil,  rose  sutldonly  from  the 
j^rouiul,  wiiioh  wuH  covered  with  snow  to  the  depth  of  a  f(i()t  or 
more,  in  a  little  dell  or  hasiii,  full  of  tall  lan-h  and  sprui-c-lirs, 
just  as  I  came  over  the  hrow  of  t!io  hill ;  and  I  was  fortmiiito 
enough  to  kill  it  at  lon'^  rani;e,  hy  a  simp  shot.  It  was  a  lino 
cock  bird,  agreeiiii;  in  all  respects  accurately  with  the  above  de- 
scription, from  the  pages  of  the  greatest  living  naturalist. 

Feeling  that  something  more  than  this  biro  notice  is  due  to 
this  beautiful  bird,  and  with  some  faint  hope  that,  by  calling  the 
attention  of  sporls^men  to  the  undoubted  fact  of  its  existence 
within  our  sporting  limits,  I  may  add  one  to  our  list  of  game,  I 
shall  proceed  to  quote  from  the  author  already  noticed,  whose 
ornithological  distinctions  and  dcscri|)tions  I  shall  adopt  through- 
out this  work,  the  t'ollowing  graphic  account  of  his  experience 
as  relates  to  this  Grouse. 

I  say,  that  1  entertain  but  a  faint  hope,  because  among  many 
intelligent  and  observing  friends,  keen  sportsmen  and  good  shots, 
both  in  Lower  Canada  and  New  Brunswick,  1  have  never  heard 
this  Grouse  named  as  a  bird  of  game.  In  fact,  I  believe  that  no 
bird  which  haunts  the  depths  of  the  North  American  wilderness 
can,  under  any  circumstances,  atlbrd  much  sport  to  the  legiti- 
mate i)ursucr,  though  they  may  be  treed  with  cur-dogs,  and 
shot  silting,  in  sulficient  numbers  to  supply  markets,  and  to 
satisfy  the  sporting  aspirations  of  the  prowling,  backwoods' 
gunner. 

"  No  sooner  had  I  entered  the  State  of  Maine,  than  I  consi- 
dered the  Canada  Grouse  as  one  of  the  principal  objects  of  my 
enquiry.  Every  person  to  whom  I  spoke  about  it,  assured  me 
that  it  was  rather  abundant  during  the  wliole  year,  and  conse- 
quently that  it  bred  in  the  country.  All  this  I  fortunately 
proved  to  be  quite  true  ;  but  no  one  told  me  of  the  difficulties  I 
should  have  to  encounter  in  watching  its  habits  ;  and  although  I 
ultimately  succeeded  in  this,  the  task  was  perhaps  as  severe  as 
any  which  I  ever  undertook. 


^mm 


74 


FK'ANK    FORESTER  S    FIELD    SPORTS. 


"  In  August,  1832,  I  reached  the  delightful  little  village  of 
Dennisville,  about  eighteen  miles  distant  from  Eastport.  There 
I  had  the  good  fortune  to  become  an  inmate  of  the  kind  and  most 
hospitable  family  of  Judge  Lincoln,  Avho  has  resided  there  for 
nearly  half  a  century,  and  who  is  blessed  with  a  family  of  sons 
equal  to  any  with  whom  I  am  acquainted,  for  talents,  persever- 
ance and  industry.  Each  of  these  had  his  own  peculiar  avoca- 
tion, and  I  naturally  attached  myself  more  particularly  to  one 
who,  ever  since  his  childhood,  manifested  a  decided  preference 
for  ornithological  pursuits.  This  young  gentleman,  Tliomas 
Lincoln,  offered  to  lead  me  to  those  retired  woods,  where  the 
Spruce  Pe.i  tridges  were  to  be  found.  We  accordingly  set  out 
on  the  27th  of  August,  my  two  sons  accompanying  us.  Thomas, 
being  a  perfect  woodsman,  advanced  at  our  head,  and  I  can  as- 
sure you,  reader,  that  to  follow  him  through  the  dense  and 
tangled  woods  of  his  native  country,  or  over  the  deep  mosses  of 
Labrador,  where  he  accompanied  me  afterward,  would  be  an 
undertaking  not  easily  accomplished.  We,  however,  managed 
to  follow  our  guide  the  whole  day,  over  fallen  trees,  among 
tangled  brushwood,  and  through  miry  ponds  ;  yet  not  a  single 
Grouse  did  we  find,  even  in  the  places  where  he  had  before  seen 
them  ;  and  great  was  my  mortification  when,  on  our  return, 
toward  sunset,  as  we  were  crossing  a  meadow  belonging  to  his 
father,  not  more  than  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from  the  village ,  the 
people  employed  in  making  hay  informed  us  that  about  half  an 
hour  after  our  departure,  they  had  seen  a  fine  covey.  We  were 
too  much  fatigued  to  go  in  search  of  them,  and  therefore  made 
for  home. 

"  Ever  ardent,  if  not  impatient,  I  immediately  made  arrange- 
ments for  procuring  some  of  these  birds,  offering  a  good  price 
for  a  few  pairs  of  olc^and  young,  and  in  a  few  days  renewed  my 
search,  in  company  with  a  man,  who  had  assured  me  he  could 
guide  me  to  their  breeding-grounds,  which  he  actually  did,  to 
my  great  pleasure.  These  breeding-grounds  I  cannot  better 
describe,  than  by  telling  you  that  the  larch  forests,  which  are 
here  called  *  Hackmetack  Woods,'  are  as  difficult  to  traverse 


UPLAND   SHOOTING. 


75 


-  i'M 


as  the  most  tangled  swamps  of  Labrador.  The  whole  ground 
is  covered  by  the  most  beautiful  carpeting  of  verdant  moss,  over 
which  the  light-footed  Grouse  walk  with  ease,  but  among  which 
we  sunk  at  every  step  or  two  up  to  the  waist,  our  legs  stuck  in 
the  mire,  and  our  bodies  squeezed  beneath  the  dead  trunks  and 
branches  of  the  trees,  the  minute  leaves  of  which  insinuated 
themselves  between  my  clothes,  and  nearly  blinded  me.  We 
saved  our  guns  from  injury,  however,  and  seeing  some  of  the 
Spruce  Partridges  before  they  perceived  us,  we  procured  seve- 
ral specimens.  They  were  in  beautiful  plumage,  but  all  male 
birds.  It  is  in  such  places  that  these  birds  usually  reside,  and  it 
is  very  seldom  that  they  are  seen  in  the  open  grounds,  beyond 
the  borders  of  their  almost  impenetrable  retreats.  On  returning 
to  my  family,  I  found  that  another  hunter  had  brought  two  fine 
females,  but  had  foolishly  neglected  to  bring  the  young  ones, 
which  he  had  caught  and  given  to  his  children,  who,  to  my  great 
mortification,  had  already  cooked  them  when  my  messenger  ar- 
rived at  his  house. 

"  The  Spruce  Partridge,  or  Canada  Grouse,  breeds  in  the 
States  of  Maine  and  Massachusetts,  about  the  middle  of  May? 
nearly  a  month  earlier  than  at  Labrador.  The  males  pay  their 
addresses  to  the  females,  by  strutting  before  them  on  the  ground 
or  moss,  in  the  manner  of  the  Turkey-cock,  frequently  rising  se- 
veral yards  in  the  air,  in  a  spiral  manner,  when  they  beat  their 
wings  violently  against  their  body,  thereby  producing  a  drum- 
ming noise,  clearer  than  that  of  the  Ruffed  Grouse,  and  which 
can  be  heard  at  a  considerable  distance.  The  female  places  her 
nest  beneath  the  low  horizontal  branches  of  fir-trees,  taking 
care  to  conceal  it  well.  It  consists  of  a  bed  of  Wigs,  dry  leaves 
and  mosses,  on  which  she  deposits  from  eight  to  fourteen  eggs, 
of  a  deep  fawn  color,  irregularly  splashed  with  different  tints  of 
brown.  They  raise  only  one  brood  in  the  season,  and  the  young 
follow  the  mother  as  soon  as  they  are  hatched.  The  males 
leave  the  females  whenever  incubation  has  commenced,  and  do 
not  join  them  again  until  late  in  autumn  ;  indeed,  they  remove 


^^s^ss 


7b 


FKANK    FOKF.STER  S    FIELD    SVORTS. 


to  diflcient  woods,  wlicn  tl.cy  are  more  sliy  and  wary  than  dur- 
ing the  love  season  or  the  winter. 

"  This  species  walks  much  in  the  manner  of  our  Partridge. 
I  never  saw  one  jerk  its  tail,  as  the  Rufl'cd  Grouse  does  ;  nor  do 
they  burrow  in  the  snow,  like  that  bird,  hut  usually  resort  to 
trees,  to  save  themselves  from  their  pursuers.  They  seldom 
move  from  thence  at  the  barking  of  a  dog  ;  and,  when  roused, 
fly  only  to  a  short  distance,  uttering  a  few  clucks,  Avhich  they 
repeat  on  alighting.  In  general,  when  a  Hock  is  discovered, 
each  individual  forming  it  may  he  easily  caught  ;  for,  so  seldom 
do  they  see  men  in  the  secluded  places  they  inhabit,  th.at  they 
do  not  seem  to  be  aware  of  the  hostile  proj)ensitics  of  the  race. 

"  Along  the  shores  of  the  Bay  of  Fundy,  t!;e  Spruce  Partridge 
is  much  more  common  than  tl;e  Rufl'cd  Grouse ;  which,  indeed, 
gradually  becomes  scarcer  the  farther  nortlr  we  proceed,  and  is 
unknown  in  Labrador,  where  it  is  replaced  by  the  Willow 
Grouse,  and  two  other  species.  The  females  of  the  Canada 
Grouse  differ  materially  in  their  coloring,  in  different  latitudes. 
In  Maine,  for  instance,  they  are  more  richly  colored  than  in  La- 
brador, where  I  observed  that  all  the  individuals  procured  by  me 
were  of  a  much  grayer  hue  than  those  .shot  near  Dennisville. 
The  like  diflerence  is,  perhaps,  still  more  remarkable  in  the 
Rufled  Grouse,  which  are  so  very  gray  and  uniforndy  colored 
in  the  Northern  and  Easte.n  States,  as  to  induce  almost  every 
person  to  consider  them  as  of  a  species  distinct  from  those  found 
in  Kentucky,  or  any  of  the  southern  mountainous  districts  of  the 
Union.  I  have  in  my  pos.scssion  skins  of  both  species,  procured 
a  thousand  miles  apart,  that  ])resent  these  remarkahlc  diflcrences 
in  the  general  hue  of  their  plumage. 

"  All  the  species  of  this  genus  indicate  the  approach  of  rainy 
weather  or  a  snow  storm  with  far  more  precision  than  the  best 
baromete;- ;  for,  on  the  afternoon  previous  to  the  occurrence  of 
such  Aveather,  they  all  resort  to  their  roosting-places  earlier,  by 
several  hours,  than  they  do  during  a  continuation  of  fine  wea- 
ther. I  have  seen  groups  of  Grouse  flying  up  to  their  roosts  at 
mid-day,  or  as  soon  as  the  weather  felt  heavy,  and  have  observed 


UPLAND    SHOOTING. 


77 


that  it  f^cncrally  rained  in  the  course  of  tliat  afternoon.  When, 
on  tiie  contrary,  tlie  same  flock  would  remain  busily  engaged  in 
search  of  fooil,  until  sunset,  I  found  the  following  morning  fresh 
and  clear.  Indeed,  I  believe  that  this  kind  of  foresight  exists  in 
the  whole  tribe  of  gallinaceous  birds. 

"  One  day,  while  on  the  coast  of  Labrador,  I  accidentally  al- 
most walked  upon  a  female  Canada  Grouse,  surrounded  by  her 
young  brood.  It  was  on  the  ISth  of  July.  The  aii'rigbted  mo- 
ther, on  seeing  us,  ruflled  up  all  her  feathers,  like  a  common  hen, 
and  advanced  close  to  us,  as  if  determined  to  defend  her  olfspring. 
Her  distressed  condition  claimed  our  forbearance,  and  we  allow- 
ed her  to  remain  in  safety.  The  moment  we  retired,  she  smoothed 
down  her  plumage,  and  uttered  a  tender  maternal  cluck,  when 
the  little  ones  took  to  tlicir  wings,  altliough  thoy  were,  I  can 
venture  to  assert,  not  more  than  one  tvceh  old,  with  so  much  ease 
and  delight,  that  I  felt  higlily  pleased  at  having  allowed  them  to 
escape. 

"Two  days  afterward,  my  youthful  and  industrious  ])arty 
returned  to  the  Ripley  with  a  pair  of  these  Grouse  in  moult. 
This  species  undergoes  that  severe  trial  at  a  much  earlier  season 
than  the  Willow  Ptarmigan.  My  son  reported  that  some  young 
ones  which  he  saw  with  their  mother,  were  able  to  lly  fully  a 
hundred  yards,  and  alighted  on  tiie  low  trees,  among  which  he 
cauglit  several  of  them,  which,  however,  died  before  he  reached 
the  vessel. 

"  This  species  is  found  not  only  in  the  State  of  Elaine,  but 
also  in  the  mountainous  districts  of  New  Flampshiio,  and  the 
northern  parts  of  New  York,  as  well  as  around  our  Northern 
Great  Lakes  and  the  liead-waters  of  the  Missouri.  It  is  abun- 
dant in  the  British  Provinces  of  New  Brunswick,  Nova  Scotia, 
Newfoundland  and  Labrador. 

"  Among  the  great  number,  procured  at  all  seasons  of  the 
year,  which  I  have  examined,  I  never  found  one  without  the 
rufous  band  at  the  extremity  of  the  tail  ;  nor  did  I  see  any  hav- 
ing the  terminal  white  spot  on  the  u])per  tail-coverts,  exhibited 
in  figures  of  this  species. 


!■  \i\f 


'    il'i' 


.■i-:.ii...'ii>- 


S3ml 


MMM 


^i 


Hi 


V8 


FRANK    FOKESTEU's    FIELD    SPORTS 


"  Thuir  food  consists  of  berries  of  different  sorts,  and  the  young 
twigs  and  blossoms  of  several  species  of  plants.  In  the  summer 
and  autumn,  I  have  often  found  them  gorged  with  berries  of  the 
plant  which  is  commonly  called  '  Solomon's  seal.'  In  the 
winter  I  have  seen  the  crop  filled  with  the  short  leaves  of  the 
larch  or  hackmetack. 

"  I  have  frequently  heard  it  said  that  these  birds  could  be 
knocked  down  with  sticks,  or  that  a  whole  covey  could  be  shot, 
while  perched  on  trees,  by  beginning  at  the  lowest  one ;  but  I 
never  witnessed  anything  of  the  kind,  and  cannot  therefore 
vouch  for  the  truth  of  the  assertion.  During  the  autumn  of 
1S33,  these  birds  were  uncommonly  plentiful  in  the  State  of 
Maine.  My  friend  Edward  Harris,  of  New  York,  Thomas 
Lincoln,  and  others,  killed  a  great  number ;  and  the  latter  gen- 
tleman procured  a  pair  alive,  which  were  fed  on  oats  and  did 
well. 

"  The  flesh  of  this  Grouse  is  dark,  and  fit  for  being  eaten 
only  when  it  has  fed  on  berries.  In  winter,  when  it  feeds  on 
the  leaves  of  trees  and  other  plants,  the  flesh  is  quite  bitter  and 
disagreeable. 

"According  to  Dr.  Richardson,  all  the  thick  and  swampy 
black  spruce  forests  between  Canada  and  the  Arctic  ocean 
abound  with  this  bird,  and  considerable  numbers  exist,  in  the 
severest  seasons,  as  high  as  the  67th  parallel.  I  am  informed 
by  Mr.  Townsend  that  it  is  also  plentiful  on  the  Rocky  Moun- 
tains and  the  plains  of  the  Columbia,  from  which  parts  I  have 
obtained  specimens  differing  in  nothing  from  others  procured  in 
Maine  and  Labrador.  I  have  also  compared  those  in  the  Edin- 
burgh Museum,  which  Mr.  Douglass  w'as  pleased  to  name 
Franklin's  Grouse,  with  several  of  my  own,  and  feel  confident 
that  they  are  all  of  one  and  the  same  species." 

From  this  vivid  and  life-like  description  of  this  beautiful  little 
Grouse,  its  habits,  food,  motions,  and  the  districts  which  it 
inhabits,  it  will  be  evident  to  all  that  it  cannot  be  denied  a  place 
among  the  Upland  game  of  the  United  States  and  British  Pro- 


UPLAND    SHOOTING. 


79 


vinces;  while  it  is,  I  fear,  scarcely  less  apparent  that  neither  its 
numbers  nor  its  manuers  will  ever,  in  probability,  allow  it  to  be 
pursued  successfully  for  the  purposes  of  sport. 

In  one  respect  only  I  must  venture  to  ilifFer  from  the  great 
authority  and  venerable  man,  whom  I  have  quoted  above  ;  and 
this  on  a  point  only  whereon  the  least  scientific  may  be  allowed 
to  differ  from  the  opinions  of  the  wisest ;  since  it  is  admitted 
everywhere  that  <le  yustibus  non  est  disputmulum.  ]Mr.  Audubon 
says  that  in  winter  the  flesh  is  bitter  and  disagreeable.  I  have 
eaten  it  in  winter,  and  then  only,  and  Avhile  I  must  admit  the 
almost  resinous  aromatic  bitterness,  I  venture  to  pronounce  it 
delicious  in  the  extreme ;  and  I  believe  that  all  epicures  in  game 
will  agree  with  me — all  those,  I  mean,  who  prefer  the  back 
bone  and  thighs  of  the  Ruffed  Grouse  of  America,  or  the  IMoor- 
fowl  of  the  British  Isles,  to  the  tamer  white  meat  of  the  breast. 
European  readers  will  understand  the  llavor  I  allude  to,  when  I 
state  that  it  closely  resembles  that  of  the  Capercaillie,  as  import- 
ed from  Norway  in  the  winter  season. 

With  this  species  I  shall  conclude  my  notice  of  the  Grolse 
TetraonidcB  of  America,  since  the  Willow  Ptaumioax,  Tetrao 
Salicrli,  "  Red-necked  Partridye,^''  is  so  very  rare  that  it  really 
cannot  be  included  under  the  head  of  Game,  even  that  indefati- 
gable explorer,  Mr.  Audubon,  having  failed  to  discover  it 
within  the  limits  of  the  States,  although  he  expresses  his  con- 
victioa  that  "  it  exists  in  the  State  of  Maine,  as  well  as  in  thp 
Northern  Districts  bordering  on  the  great  lakes." 

For  the  benefit  of  those  who  desire  to  be  informed,  and  to 
learn  the  distinctions  between  Grouse,  Pheasant,  and  Partridge, 
neither  of  the  latter  species  existing  in  America,  I  will  state  sim- 
ply and  briefly  that  all  Grouse  are  feathered  on  the  legs,  below 
the  termination  of  the  thigh,  some  quite  to  the  toe  nails.  The 
Ruffed  Grouse  is  feathered  below  the  knee — the  Pinnated  and 
Canada  Grouse  to  the  ancles — the  Willow  Grouse  to  the  claws. 
Of  many  generic  marks  this  is  the  most  decided.  No  game- 
bird  but  the  Grouse  is  feathered  below  the  knee,  and  he  always 
carries  this  distinctive  sign  after  the  spring  migration. 
VOL.   I.  8 


M; 


\} 


80 


FRANK   FORESTER  S   FIELD   SPORTS. 


i        , 


i 


I 


AMERICAN    QUAIL. 

Ortyx  Virgtniana—  Stephens.  La  Perdrix  d'Ameriqiie — Brissot. 
The  Quail, — "  The  Partridge''''  in  Pennsylvania  and  South- 
ward, improperly. 

"  Male  10.15.     Female  9^14. 

"  Breeds  abundantly  from  Texas  to  Massachusetts  ;  in  the 
interior,  high  on  the  Missouri,  and  in  all  intermediate  districts. 

"  Adult  male. 

"  Bill  short,  robust,  rather  obtuse,  the  base  covered  with 
feathers ;  upper  mandible*  with  the  dorsal  outline  curved,  the 
sides  convex,  the  edges  overlapping,  the  tip  declinate ;  under 
mandible  nearly  straight  in  its  dorsal  outline,  arched  on  the 
edges,  the  sides  convex,  nostrils  concealed  among  the  feathers. 
Head  and  neck  of  ordinary  size ;  body  short  and  bulky.  Feet 
of  ordinary  length  ;  tarsus  anteriorly  scutellate,f  a  little  com- 
pressed, spurless.  Toes  scutellate  above,  pectinatej  on  the 
sides  ;  claws  arched,  obtuse. 

"  Plumage  compact,  glossy.  Feathers  of  the  upper  part  of 
the  head  erectile  into  a  tuft.  Wings  short,  broad,  much 
curved,  and  rounded  ;  the  fourth  quill  the  longest.  Tail  short, 
rounded,  of  twelve  rounded  feathers. 

"  Bill  dark  brown.  Iris  hazel.  Feet  grayish  blue.  The 
forehead,  a  broad  line  over  each  eye,  and  the  throat  and  fore- 
neck  white.  Lore,  auricular§  coverts,  and  a  broad  semilunar 
band  on  the  foreneck,  more  or  less  black.  Upper  part  of  the 
head,  hind  and  lower  part  of  the  neck,  all  round,  reddish  brown. 
Upper  back  and  wing  covens,  bright  brownish  red  ;  the  lower 
part  of  the  back,  light  red,  tinged  v/ith  yellow.  Primarie. 
dusky,  externally  margined  with  blue;  seco>^:(.n'!i  ;  irregularly 
barred  with  light  red.     Tail  grayish  blue,  excepting  the  middle 

*  Mandihlc — division  of  bill  corresponding  to  the  jaws. 

t  Scutellate — covered  with  scales  overlapping  each  other  like  tiles. 

X  Pectinate — toothed  like  a  comb. 

^  Auricular — belonging  to  the  ear. 


UPLAND    SHOOTING. 


81 


y 


feathers,  which  are  dull  grayish  yellow,  sprinkled  with  hlack. 
Sides  of  the  neck  spotted  with  white.  Under  parts  white, 
streaked  with  hrownish-red,  transversely  and  undulatingly  harred 
with  hlack.     Sides  and  under  tail  coverts,  reddish. 

"  Length,  10  inches  ;  extent  of  wings,  15  ;  bill  along  the 
back,  1,  along  the  gap,  ^^ ;  tarsus  \ ;  middle  toe  nearly  the 
sanie. 

"  Young  Male. 

"  Similar  to  the  adult  male  in  the  general  distribution  of  the 
colors,  but  the  white  of  the  head  and  throat  bright  reddish- 
yellow  ;  the  back  of  the  fore-neck  and  sides  of  the  head,  deep 
brown ;  the  under  parts  less  pure  and  more  dusky  ;  and  the  tail 
of  a  duller  gray. 

"  Adult  Female. 

"  The  female  resembles  the  young  male,  but  is  more  deci- 
dedly colored ;  the  bill  darker,  the  head  of  a  more  uniform  and 
richer  reddish-yellow  ;  the  sides  of  the  neck  spotted  with  yel- 
low and  black. 

"  Young  Female. 

"  The  young  females  are  somewhat  smaller  and  lighter  in 
their  tints  than  the  young  males. 

"  Very  young  Birds. 

"  Bill  brownish-yellow.  Iris  light  hazel.  The  general  color 
of  the  upper  parts,  light  yellowish-brown,  patched  with  gray; 
sides  of  the  head  dusky." — Auduhon's  Birds  of  America. 

"  This  well  known  bird  is  a  general  inhabitant  of  North 
America,  from  the  northern  parts  of  Canada  and  Nova  Scotia, 
in  which  latter  place  it  is  said  to  be  migratory  to  the  extremity 
of  the  peninsula  of  Florida,  and  was  seen  in  the  neighborhood 
of  the  Great  Osage  Village  in  the  interior  of  Louisiana.  They 
are  numerous  in  Kentucky  and  Oiiio.  Mr.  Pennant  remarks 
that  they  have  been  lately  introduced  into  the  Island  of  .lainaica, 
where  they  appear  to  thrive  greatly,  breeding  in  that  warm 
climate  twice  in  the  year.  Capt.  Henderson  mentions  them  as 
being  plenty  near  the  Belize,  at  the  Bay  of  Honduras.     They 


\\n 


-vrfeaMBMHiM 


K    ; 


82 


FRANK    forester's    FIELD    SPORTS. 


■i    Ji 


rarely  frequent  the  forest,  and  are  most  numerous  in  the  vicinity 
of  well  cultivated  plantations,  where  grain  is  plenty.  They, 
however,  occasionally  seek  shelter  in  the  woods,  perching  on 
the  branches,  or  secreting  themselves  among  the  brushwood., 
but  are  found  most  usually  in  open  fields,  or  along  fences  shel- 
tered by  thickets  of  briars;  when  they  are  not  too  much  perse- 
cuted by  the  sportsman  they  become  almost  htilf  domesticated, 
approach  the  barn,  particularly  in  winter,  and  sometimes  in  that 
severe  season  mix  with  the  poultry  to  glean  up  a  subsistence. 
Tiiey  remain  with  us  a  whole  year,  and  often  sutler  extremely 
by  long,  hard  winters,  and  deep  snows.  At  such  times  the  arts 
of  man  combine  with  the  inclemency  of  the  season  for  their 
destruction.  To  the  ravages  of  the  gun  are  added  others  of  a 
more  insidious  kind.  Traps  are  placed  on  almost  every  planta- 
tion in  such  places  as  they  are  known  to  frequent.  They  are 
formed  of  lath  or  thinly  split  sticks,  somewhat  in  the  shape  of 
an  obtuse  cone,  laced  together  with  cord,  having  a  small  hole 
at  the  top  with  a  sliding  lid  to  take  out  the  game  by.  This  is 
supported  by  the  common  figure  4  trigger,  and  grain  is  scattered 
below  and  leading  to  the  place.  By  this  contrivance  ten  or 
fifteen  have  sometimes  been  taken  at  a  time.  These  are  some- 
times brought  alive  to  market,  and  occasionally  bought  up  by 
sportsmen,  who,  if  the  season  be  very  severe,  sometimes  pre- 
serve and  feed  them  till  Spring,  when  they  are  humanely  turned 
out  to  their  native  fields  again,  to  be  put  to  death  son>e  future 
time  secundum  artcm.  Between  the  months  of  August  and 
March  great  numbers  of  these  birds  are  brought  to  the  market 
of  Philadelphia,  where  they  are  sold  at  from  twelve  to  eighteen 
cents  a  piece. 

"  The  Quail  begins  to  build  early  in  May.  The  nest  is  made 
on  the  ground,  usually  at  the  bottom  of  a  thick  tuft  of  grass  that 
shelters  and  conceals  it.  The  materials  are  leaves  and  fine  dry 
grass,  in  considerable  quantity.  It  is  well  covered  above,  and 
an  opening  left  on  one  side  for  entrance.  The  female  lays  from 
fifteen  to  twenty-four  eggs,  of  a  pure  white,  without  any  spots. 
The  time  of  incubation  has  been  stated  to  me  by  various  per- 


i 


»i 


UPLAND    SHOOTING. 


8b 


sons  at  four  weeks,  when  the  eggs  were  placed  uiuler  the 
domestic  lien.  The  young  leave  the  nest  as  soon  as  they  are 
freed  from  the  shell,  and  are  conducted  about  in  search  of  food 
by  tiie  female ;  are  guided  by  her  voice,  ^^  hich,  at  that  time, 
resembles  the  twittering  of  young  chickens,  and  sheltered  by 
her  wings  in  the  same  manner  as  the  domestic  fowl,  but  with 
all  that  secrecy  and  precaution  for  tiieir  safety  which  their 
helplessness  and  greater  danger  reiuire.  In  this  situation, 
should  the  little  timid  family  be  unexpectedly  sur[)rised,  the 
utmost  alarm  and  consternation  prevails.  The  mother  throws 
herself  in  the  path,  iluttering  along  and  beating  the  ground  with 
her  wings,  as  if  sorely  wounded,  using  every  artifice  she  is  master 
of  to  entice  the  passenger  in  pursuit  of  herself,  uttering  at  the 
same  time  certain  peculiar  notes  of  alarm,  well  understood  hy 
the  young,  who  dive  separately  amongst  the  grass,  and  secrete 
themselves  until  the  danger  is  over,  and  the  parent,  having 
decoyed  the  pursuer  to  a  safe  distance,  returns  by  a. circuitous 
route  to  collect  and  lead  them  off.  This  well  known  nianceuvre, 
which  nine  times  in  ten  is  successful,  is  honorable  to  the  feel- 
ings and  judgment  of  the  bird,  but  a  severe  satire  on  man. 
The  alTectionate  mother,  as  if  sensible  of  the  avaricious 
cruelty  of  his  nature,  tempts  him  with  a  larger  prize  to  save 
her  more  helpless  offspring,  and  pays  him  as  avarice  and  cruelty 
ought  always  to  be  paid,  witli  mortification  and  disappointment. 
"  The  eggs  of  the  Quaii  have  been  frequently  placed  uiuler 
the  domestic  Hen,  and  hatched  and  reared  with  equal  success 
as  her  own,  though  gene.-ally  speaking,  the  young  Partridges, 
being  more  restless  and  vagrant,  often  lose  themselves  and 
disappear.  The  lien  ought  to  be  a  particular  good  nurse,  not 
at  all  disposed  to  ramble,  in  which  case  they  are  very  easily 
raised.  Those  that  survive  acipiire  all  the  familiarity  of  com- 
mon Chickens,  and  there  is  little  doubt  that  if  proper  measures 
were  taken  and  persevered  in  for  a  few  years,  they  might  be 
completely  domesticated.  They  have  been  often  kept  during 
the  first  season  and  through  the  whole  of  that  winter,  but  have 
uniformly  deserted  in  the  spring.     Two  young  Partridges  that 


I;  IB 


■I    II 


84 


FRANK    FORESTKU'S    FIELU    Si'OUTS. 


• 


!  J 


were  brought  up  by  a  Hen,  wlieii  abandoned  by  her,  associuted 
with  the  cows,  which  they  regularly  followed  to  the  fields, 
returned  with  them  when  they  came  home  in  the  evening, 
st.)()d  by  them  while  they  ware  milked  and  again  accompanied 
them  to  the  pasture.  These  remained  during  the  winter,  lodg- 
ing in  the  stable,  but  as  soon  as  spring  came  they  disappeared. 
Of  this  fact  I  was  informed  by  a  very  respectable  lady,  by 
whom  they  were  particularly  observed.  It  has  been  frequently 
asserted  to  me  that  the  Quails  lay  in  each  others  nests. 
Though  I  have  never  myself  seen  a  case  of  this  kiiid,  I  do  not 
think  it  altogether  improbable,  from  the  fact  that  ihey  have 
often  been  known  to  drop  their  eggs  in  the  nest  of  the  common 
Hen,  when  that  happened  to  be  in  the  fields  or  at  a  small  dis- 
tance from  the  house.  The  two  Partridges  above  mentioned 
were  raised  in  this  manner,  and  it  was  particularly  remarked  by 
the  lady  who  gave  me  the  information,  that  the  Hen  sat  for 
several  days  after  her  own  eggs  weio  hatched,  until  the  young 
Quails  made  their  appearance.  Thi!  Partridge,  on  her  part, 
has  sometimes  been  employed  to  hatch  the  eggs  of  the  common 
domestic  Hen.  A  friend  of  mine,  who  himself  made  the  experi- 
ment, informs  me  that  of  several  Hen's  eggs  which  he  substi- 
tuted in  place  of  those  of  the  Partridge,  she  brought  out  the 
whole,  and  that  for  several  weeks  he  occasionally  surprised  her 
in  various  parts  of  the  plantation,  with  her  brood  of  Chickens, 
on  which  occasions  she  exhibited  all  that  distressful  alarm,  and 
practised  her  usual  manceuvres  for  their  preservation.  Even 
after  they  were  considerably  grown,  and  larger  than  the  Part- 
ridge herself,  she  continued  to  lead  them  about ;  but  though  the 
notes  or  call  were  those  of  common  Chickens,  their  manners 
had  all  the  shyness,  timidity,  and  alarm  of  young  Partridges, 
running  with  great  rapidity,  and  squatting  in  the  grass  exactly 
in  the  manner  of  the  Partridge.  Soon  after  this  they  disap- 
peared, having  probably  been  destroyed  by  dogs,  by  the  gun, 
or  by  birds  of  prey.  Whether  the  domestic  fowl  might  not  by 
this  method  be  very  soon  brought  back  to  its  original  savage  state, 
and  thereby  supply  another  additional  subject  for  the  amusement 


UPLAND    SHOOTING. 


86 


of  the  dporhjinun,  will  scarcely  admit  of  doubt ;  but  tlie  experi- 
ment, in  order  to  secure  its  success,  would  reijuire  to  be  made  in 
a  quarter  of  the  country  less  exi)osed  than  ours  to  the  ravages 
of  guns,  dogs,  traps,  and  the  deep  snows  of  winter,  that 
the  new  tribe  might  have  full  time  to  become  completely  natu- 
rali/e('  and  well  fixed  in  all  their  native  habits.  About  the 
beginning  of  September,  the  Quail  being  now  nearly  full  grown 
and  associated  in  flocks  or  coveys  of  from  four  or  five  to  thirty, 
afford  considerable  sport  to  the  gunner.  At  this  time  the  notes 
of  the  male  are  most  frequent,  clear,  and  loud.  Ilis  connnon 
call  consists  of  two  notes,  with  sometimes  an  introductory  one, 
and  is  similar  to  the  sound  produced  by  pronouncing  the  words 
Bob  White.  This  call  may  bo  easily  mistaken  by  whistling,  so 
as  to  deceive  the  bird  itself,  and  bring  it  near.  VVhile  uttering 
this  he  is  usually  perched  on  a  rail  of  the  fence,  or  a  low  limb 
of  an  apple  tree,  where  he  will  sometimes  sit  repeating,  at 
short  intervals.  Bob  White,  for  half  an  hour  at  a  time.  When 
a  covey  are  assembled  in  a  thicket,  or  corner  of  a  field,  and 
about  to  take  wing,  they  make  a  low,  twittering  sound,  not 
unlike  that  of  young  Chickens ;  and  when  the  covey  is  dis- 
persed they  are  called  together  by  a  loud  and  frequently 
repeated  note,  peculiarly  expressive  of  tenderness  and  anxiety. 
The  food  of  the  Partridge  consists  of  grain,  seeds,  insects,  and 
berries  of  various  kinds.  Buckwheat  and  Indian  Corn  are 
particular  favorites.  In  September  and  October  the  Buckwheat 
fields  afford  them  an  abundant  supply  as  well  as  a  secure 
shelter.  They  usually  roost  at  night  in  the  middle  of  a  field, 
on  high  ground,  and  from  the  circumstance  of  the  dung  being 
found  in  such  places  in  one  round  heap,  it  is  generally  con- 
jectured that  they  roost  in  a  circle  with  their  heads  outward  ; 
each  individual  in  this  position  forming  a  kind  of  guard  to  pre- 
vent surprise.  They  also  continue  to  lodge  for  several  nights 
in  the  same  spot.  The  Partridge,  like  all  the  rest  of  the  galli- 
naceous order,  flies  with  a  loud,  whirring  sound,  occasioned 
by  the  shortness,  concavity,  and  rapid  motion  of  its  wings,  and 
the   comparative  weight  of  its    body.     The   steadiness  of  its 


',ni' 
I  .iriii 


1 


i!  . 


fi 


!  J 


'r-'h 


80 


FRANK-  FOnESTKH  9    FIELD    SPORTS. 


horizontal  (\\'^\\t,  liowovcr,  rciulers  it  no  dillicult  nmrk  to  tho 
sportsman,  particularly  when  assisted  hy  his  saj^acious  pointer. 
The  ilesh  of  this  hird  is  peculiarly  white,  temler  and  delicate, 
and  uno  [uailed  hy  that  of  any  other  of  its  jrenus  in  the  United 
.States.  The;e  is  only  one  species  of  Quail  at  present  known 
williin  the  United  States." — ]r//awn's  Am.  Ornitholutjy. 


THE    WOODCOCK. 

Scolnpnx  Minor. — La  litcasse  iVAiiwriqnc — Brissot.     The  Mud- 
Snipc,  Blind  Snipe,  Jiiy-heddcd  Snipe,  Boy- Sucker. 

"Male,  11.16.     Female,  11,1.17|. 

"  Distrihuted  throu;^Iiout  the  country,  extremely  abundant  ia 
the  Middle  and  Kastern  Districts,  as  well  as  in  the  interior, 
where  it  lueeds  as  far  as  Nova  Scotia.  Ecjually  abundant  in 
winter,  in  the  Southern  States,  though  many  migrate  Southward. 

"  Adult  Male. 

"  Bill  double  the  length  of  the  head,  straight,  slender,  taper- 
ing, sub-trigonal,  and  deeper  than  broad  at  the  base,  slightly 
depressed  toward  the  end.  Upper  mandible,  with  the  dorsal 
line  straight ;  the  ridge  narrow,  toward  the  end  flattened  ;  the 
sides  nearly  erect,  sloping  outward  toward  the  soft,  obtuse 
edges ;  the  tip  blunt,  knob-like,  and  longer  than  that  of  the 
lower  mandible.  Nostrils  basal,  lateral,  lineal,  very  small. 
Lower  mandible  broader  than  the  upper  ;  the  angle  very  long 
and  narrow,  the  dorsal  line  straight,  the  back  broadly  rounded, 
the  sides  marked  with  a  deep  groove,  sk)j)ing  inward  at  the 
base,  outward  toward  the  end,  the  edges  soft  and  obtuse,  the 
tip  rounded. 

"  Head  rather  large,  oljlong,  narrowed  anteriorly  ;  eyes  large, 
and  placed  high.  Neck  short  and  thick.  Body  rather  full. 
Feet  rather  short ;  tibia  feathered  to  the  joint ;  tarsus  rather 
short,  compressed.,  covered  in  front  by  numerous  scutella ;  on 
the  sides  and  behind  with  sub-hexagonal  scales,  and  having  a 
row  of  small  scutelliform  scales  along  the  outer  side  behind. 
Toe-j   free,   slender,   the  first  verv  small,  the  second   slightly 


UPLAND   8H00TIN0. 


S7 


ll 

Hi 

shorter  thiin  the  fourtli,  the  third  much  h)nj^Oi"  and  exceeding 
the  tiirsus  in  length ;  all  scutolhite  uhuve,  niirginato,  Ihittish, 
benc.ith.  Chiws  very  small,  arched,  acute,  that  of  the  hind 
toe  extremely  small,  of  middle  toe  with  u  thin  inner  eilgo. 

'*  Plumage  very  soft,  elastic,  blended  ;  of  the  fore-part  of  the 
head  very  short  ;  of  the  neck  full.  Wings  short,  rounde<l  ;  the 
fourth  and  fifth  unills  about  e  |ual  and  longest,  the  first  three 
extraordinarily  attenuatcil,  being  in  fact  sublincar,  narrower  be- 
yond the  middle,  the  inner  web  slightly  enlarged  toward  tlw? 
end,  the  first  as  long  as  the  seventh.  Secondaries  broad,  the 
outer  a  little  incurved  and  rounded,  the  inner  tapering  and 
elongated.  Tail  very  short,  wedge-shaped,  of  twelve  narrow 
feathers,  which  taper  toward  the  roumlod  point. 

"  Bill  light  yellowish-brown,  dusky  toward  the  end.  Iris 
brown.  Feet  llesh-coloreil ;  claws  brownish  black.  The  fore- 
head is  yellowish-gray,  with  a  few  dark  mottlings  in  the  centre. 
On  the  upper  part  of  the  head  iiro  two  blackish-brown  broad 
transverse  bands,  and  on  the  occiput  two  narrower,  separated 
by  bands  of  light  red  ;  a  brownish-black  loral  band  and  a  narrow 
irregular  line  of  the  same  across  the  cheek,  and  continued  to  the 
occiput.  The  upper  parts  are  variegated  with  brownish-black, 
light  yellowish-red,  and  ash-gray.  There  are  three  broad,  lon- 
gitudinal bands  of  the  first  color,  barred  with  the  second,  down 
the  back,  separated  by  tvo  of  the  last.  The  inner  wing  co- 
verts and  secondary  quills  are  similarly  barred  ;  the  outer,  pale 
grayish-rod,  faintly  barred  with  dusky.  The  (luills  are  grayish- 
brown,  tippeil  with  dull  gray,  the  secondaries  spotted  on  the 
outer  web  with  dull  red.  Upper  tail  coverts  barred  ;  tail  fea- 
thers brownish-black,  their  tips  gray,  their  outer  edges  mottled 
with  reddish.  The  sides  of  the  neck  are  gray,  tinged  with  red  ; 
the  lower  parts  in  general,  light  red,  tinged  with  gray  on  the 
breast,  on  the  sides  and  lower  wing  coverts  deeper ;  the  lower 
tail  coverts  with  a  central  dusky  line,  and  the  tip  white. 

"  Length  to  end  of  tail,  11  inches  ;  to  end  of  wings,  9 J  ; 
wing  from  flexure,  5}  ;  tail,  2/;? ;  bill  along  the  ridge,  Sr'a  ;  along 


ti 


i 


ii,  I 


i 


FRANK    FORESTER'S    FIELD  SPORTS. 

the  edge  of  the  lower  mandible,  2^1 ;  tarsus,  Ifj  >  middle  toe, 
1  ,-3,  its  claw,  I ;  weight,  64OZ. 

"  Aiult  Female. 

"  The  female,  which  is  considerably  larger,  has  the  same  co- 
lors as  the  male. 

"  Length  to  end  of  tail,  1  ifa  ;  to  end  of  wings,  IOt^  ;  to  end 
of  claws,  IStt;  wing,  from  flexure,  SxV;  tail,  2r2  ;  bill  along 
the  ridge,  2\^ ;  along  the  edge  of  lower  mandible,  2^J  ;  tarsus, 
Ifr. ;  middle  toe,  1/2;  its  claw,  i  ;  weight,  S^oz. 

"  Fledged  young. 

"  When  fully  fledged,  similar  to  the  old  birds." — Audubon's 
Birds  of  America. 

"  This  bird  is  universally  known  to  our  sportsmen.  It  arrives 
in  Pennsylvania  early  in  March — sometimes  sooner — and,  I 
doubt  not,  in  mild  winters,  some  few  remain  with  us  the  whole 
of  that  season. 

"  During  the  day  they  keep  to  the  woods  and  thickets,  and  at 
the  approach  of  evening  seek  the  high  and  open  country  places 
to  feed  in.  They  soon  disperse  themselves  over  the  country  to 
breed.  About  the  beginning  of  July,  particularly  in  long-conti- 
nued hot  weather,  they  descend  to  the  marshy  shores  of  our 
large  rivers,  their  favorite  springs  and  watery  recesses  inland 
being  chiefly  dried  up.  To  the  former  of  these  retreats  they 
are  pursued  by  the  merciless  sportsman,  flushed  by  dogs,  and 
shot  down  in  great  numbers.  This  species  of  amusement,  when 
eagerly  followed,  is  still  more  laborious  than  Snipe-shooting ; 
and,  from  the  nature  of  the  ground,  or  "  cripple,"  as  it  is  usually 
called — viz.,  deep  mud  intersected  with  old  logs,  which  are  co- 
vered and  hid  from  sight  by  high  reeds,  weeds,  and  alder 
bushes — the  best  dogs  are  soon  tired  out,  and  it  is  customary 
with  sportsmen  who  regularly  pursue  this  diversion,  to  have  two 
sets  of  dogs  to  relieve  each  other  alternately. 

"  The  Woodcock  usually  begins  to  lay  in  April.  The  nest  is 
placed  on  the  ground,  in  a  retired  part  of  the  woods,  frequently 
at  the  root  of  an  old  stump.     It  is  formed  of  a  few  withered 


I 


UPLAND    SHOOTING. 


89 


ed 


leaves  and  stalks  of  grass,  laid  with  very  little  rt.  The  female 
lays  four,  sometimes  five  eggs,  about  an  inch  and  a  half  long, 
and  an  inch,  or  rather  more,  in  diameter,  tapering  suddenly  to 
the  small  end.  These  are  of  a  dull  clay  color,  marked  with 
spots  of  brown,  particularly  at  the  great  end,  and  interspersed 
with  others  of  a  very  pale  purple.  The  nest  of  the  Woodcock 
has,  in  several  instances  that  have  come  to  my  knowledge,  been 
found  with  eggs  in  P"'ebruary,  but  its  usual  time  of  beginning  to 
lay  is  in  April.  In  July,  August  and  September,  they  are  con- 
sidered in  good  order  for  shooting.  The  Woodcock  is  properly 
a  nocturnal  bird,  feeding  chielly  at  night,  and  seldom  stirring 
about  till  after  sunset.  At  such  times,  as  well  as  in  the  early 
part  of  the  morning,  particularly  in  the  spring,  he  rises  by  a  kind 
of  spiral  course,  to  a  considerable  height  in  the  air,  uttering  at 
times  a  sudden  quack,  till  having  gained  his  utmost  height,  he 
hovers  around  in  a  wild  and  irregular  manner,  making  a  sort  of 
murmuring  sound,  then  descends  with  rapidity,  as  he  rose.  When 
uttering  his  common  note  on  the  ground,  he  seems  to  do  it  with 
difficulty,  throwing  his  head  toward  the  earth,  and  frequently  jet- 
ting up  his  tail.  These  notes  and  manujuvres  are  most  usual  in 
the  spring,  and  are  the  call  of  the  male  to  his  favorite  female. 
Their  food  consists  of  various  larvie  and  other  aquatic  worms,  for 
which,  during  the  evening,  they  are  almost  continually  turning 
over  the  leaves  with  their  bills,  or  searching  in  the  bogs.  Their 
flesh  is  reckoned  delicious,  and  prized  highly.  They  remain 
with  us  till  late  in  the  autumn,  and,  on  the  falling  of  the  first 
snows,  descend  from  the  ranges  of  the  Alleghany  to  the  lower 
parts  of  the  country,  in  great  numbers — soon  after  which,  viz., 
in  November,  they  move  off  to  the  South.  This  bird,  in  its  gene- 
ral figure  and  manners,  very  greatly  resemble  the  Woodcock  of 
Europe  ;  but  is  considerably  less,  and  differently  marked  below, 
being  an  entirely  distinct  species.  A  few  traits  will  clearly  point 
out  these  differences.  The  lower  parts  of  the  European  Wood- 
cock are  thickly  barred  with  dusky-waved  lines  on  a  yellowish- 
white  ground.  The  present  species  has  those  parts  of  a  bright 
ferruginous.     The  male,  of  the  American  species,  weighs  from 


MB 


90 


FRANK    FORESTER  S    FIELD    SPORTS. 


five  to  six  ounces,  the  female  eight ;  the  European  twelve.  The 
European  Woodcock  makes  his  first  appearance  in  Britain  in 
October  and  November,  that  country  being,  in  fact,  only  its 
winter  quarters  ;  for,  early  in  March,  they  move  off"  to  the 
northern  parts  of  the  continent  to  breed.  The  American  spe- 
cies, on  the  contrary,  winters  in  countries  south  of  the  United 
States,  arrives  here  early  in  March,  extends  its  migration  as  far 
at  least  as  the  river  St.  Lawrence — breeds  in  all  the  intermediate 
places,  and  retires  again  to  the  South  on  the  approach  of  winter. 
The  one  migrates  from  the  torrid  to  the  temperate  regions — the 
other  from  the  temperate  to  the  Arctic.  The  two  birds,  there- 
fore, notwithstanding  their  names  are  the  same,  differ  not  only 
in  size  and  markings,  but  also  in  native  climate.  Hence  the  ab- 
surdity of  those  who  would  persuade  us  that  the  Woodcock  of 
America  crosses  the  Atlantic  to  Europe,  and  vice  versa.  These 
observations  have  been  thought  necessary,  from  the  respectability 
of  some  of  our  own  writers,  who  seem  to  have  adopted  this  opi- 
nion. How  far  to  the  North  our  Woodcock  is  found,  I  am  un- 
able to  say.  It  is  not  mentioned  as  a  bird  of  Hudson's  Bay,  and 
being  altogether  unknown  in  the  Northern  parts  of  Europe,  it  is 
very  probable  that  its  migrations  do  not  extend  to  a  very  high 
latitude ;  for  it  may  be  laid  down  as  a  general  rule,  that  those 
birds  which  migrate  to  the  Arctic  regions,  in  either  continent, 
are  very  often  common  to  both.  The  head  of  the  Woodcock  is 
of  singular  conformation — large,  somewhat  triangular,  and  the 
eye  fixed  at  a  remarkable  distance  from  the  bill,  and  high  in  the 
head.  This  construction  was  necessary  to  give  a  greater  range 
of  vision,  and  to  secure  the  eye  from  injury  while  the  owner  is 
searching  in  the  mire.  The  flight  of  the  Woodcock  is  slow. 
When  flushed  at  any  ti"ie  in  the  woods,  he  rises  to  the  heiglit 
of  the  bushes  or  underwood,  and  almost  instantly  drops  behind 
them  again  at  a  short  distance,  generally  running  ofl"  for  several 
yards  as  soon  as  he  touches  the  ground.  The  notion  that  there 
are  two  species  of  Woodcock  in  this  country,  probably  originated 
from  the  great  difference  of  size  between  the  male  and  female — 
the  latter  being  considerably  the  larger.     When  taken,  they  ut- 


It 


i 


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:ii'i.il  f 


r,       sk'.l.l. 


■1!    .'• 


-■|;.M  •;•>;;.   ' 

:.;.l     'I'll  MiVl    il. 


I'-l 


1.  ^'-^  I 


■;i"! 


MM     ii)iiui;  li:v 


\V 


l;,.-l     Sjll'.i'f     .1'.     Uli.'     ' 


.(^'li 


Ml      ''if}      111 


1.  '  »■    I   r<   ■.  ■  ,    Wil;! 


lih.    lu  ■miiu>">-'    •:■ 


)^.ln•■y.^■<v- 


1  lUt.-.'?.'.   tl'iflli 


|;ll^ll^ 


;ir,   ;.)l) 


1  .   Ill 


(,    x:\".:  ''•<!    .l':t.     1  '     til' 


I,.:--    uf 


ihiic    b 


'',i'.>i:'.-'':i   I.!     !■ 


c:,.!';-   ,>; '1    UP 


•rii  ;  tiiNl, 


-!V»uU    i 


.:ler.  bui   .  .iii.MiU-rp'-iy  '"v^'.y 


t\r 


■  S     ,'.r    lir^l,   I' 


Mi'iMue/-    ■■  -.iipri''-:: 


'i.aii;ii?   vers 


i;l,:.! 


Ill 


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n 


'  M 


■I       <  \ 


UPLAND    SHOOTING. 


91 


.til'  ii  long,  clear,  but  feeble  peep^  not  louder  than  that  of  a 
mouse.  They  are  far  inferior  to  young  partridges,  in  running 
and  skulking,  and,  should  the  female  be  unfortunately  killed, 
may  be  e:isily  taken  on  the  spot." — Wilson's  Am.  Ornithology. 


P 


COMMON    SNIPE. 
Scolopax  Wllsonii. — 77te  English  Snipe. 

"Male  10^.17. 

"  Distributed  throughout  the  country.  Breeds  from  Vir- 
ginia northward.  Exceedingly  abundant  in  the  Southern  and 
Western  districts  during  winter. 

"  Adult  male. 

"  Bill  twice  as  long  as  the  head,  subulate,  straight,  depressed 
toward  the  end,  compressed  for  more  than  half  its  length. 
Upper  mandible  with  the  dorsal  line  straight ;  the  ridge,  for  a 
short  space  at  the  base,  llattish,  then  convex ;  towards  the 
end  flattened  ;  the  sides  with  a  narrow  groove  extending  to 
near  the  tip,  which  is  obtuse  and  probe-like ;  the  edges  soft 
and  obtuse.  Nostrils  basal,  linear,  very  small.  Lower  man- 
dible with  the  angle  extremely  narrow  and  long,  the  sides 
nearly  erect,  with  a  groove  having  several  bars  across  it ;  the 
end  of  both  mandibles  covered,  after  death,  with  numerous 
prominences,  or  rather  with  reticular  depressions,  leaving  small 
prominences  between  them. 

"  Head  rather  small,  oblong,  narrowed  anteriorly,  the  fore- 
head elevated  and  rounded.  Neck  rather  short.  Body  rather 
full.  Legs  of  moderate  length,  slender ;  tibia  bare  below, 
scutellate  before  and  behind ;  tarsus  with  numerous  scutella 
before,  smaller  ones  behind,  and  reticulated  sides  ;  toes  very 
slender,  free,  scutellate  above,  narrow  and  slightly  margined 
beneath ;  first  very  small,  third  longer  than  the  tarsus ;  fourth 
much  shorter,  but  considerably  longer  than  the  second.  Claws 
slightly  arched,  extremely  compressed,  very  acute,  that  of  the 
third  toe  longest. 

"  Plumage  very  soft,  rather  full,  blended ;  on  the  forepart 


■B 


I     ! 


i  it 


i    < 

1     ! 


['I 


'  H 


11 


83 


FRANK    FORESTEU'S    FIELD    SPORTS. 


of  the  head  very  short.  Wings  of  moderate  length,  narrow 
sharp;  primaries  broad,  tapering,  but  rounded,  the  first  ex 
tremely  small  and  pointed,  tiie  second  longest,  the  third  very 
little  shorter,  the  rest  rapidly  graduated ;  secondaries  broad, 
short,  incurved,  rounded,  the  inner  very  long,  tapeiing,  as  are 
the  scapulars.     Tail  short,  rounded,  of  sixteen  rounded  feathers. 

"  Bill  brown,  the  granulated  part  toward  the  tip  black. 
Iris  hazel.  Feet  bluish  gray,  claws  dusky.  On  the  upper 
part  of  the  head  two  brownish-black  longitudinal  hands,  sepa- 
rated by  a  narrower  central  pale  brown  one,  and  with  another 
pale  brown  band  on  each  side  from  the  bill  over  the  eye.  Then 
a  loral  band  of  dark  brown ;  chin  whitish ;  neck  pale  reddish- 
brown,  spotted  with  brownish-black.  The  general  color  of 
upper  parts  is  brownish-black,  variegated  with  pale  reddish- 
brown,  of  which  latter  color  are  the  outer  edges  of  the  scapu- 
lars and  of  the  lateral  feathers  on  the  anterior  part  of  the  back. 
Wing-coverts,  and  inner  secondaries,  similarly  mottled  ;  the 
small  anterior  coverts,  the  primary  coverts,  primary  quills,  and 
outer  secondaries,  deep  brown  more  or  less  tipped  with  white ; 
rump  barred  with  yellowish-gray  and  dusky  ;  upper  tail  coverts 
similar,  but  the  larger  barred  with  brownish-red  and  black. 
Tail  feathers  brownish-black  at  the  base,  with  a  broad  sub- 
terminal  band  of  brownish-red  on  the  outer  web  of  the  two 
middle,  and  on  both  webs  of  the  rest,  excepting  the  outer  on 
each  side,  which  is  barred  with  brownish-black  and  white,  the 
black  bars  five ;  the  tips  of  all  white.  Anterior  part  of  breast 
like  the  neck,  the  rest  white  ;  abdomen  and  lower  tail  coverts 
grayish-yellow,  barred  with  brownish-black ;  lower  wing  co- 
verts similarly  mottled. 

"  Length  to  end  of  tail,  lOi  inches  ;  to  end  of  claws,  11!  • 
extent  of  wings,  17  ;  wing,  from  flexure,  5  ;  tail,  2}  ;  bill  along 
the  back,  2f\  ;  along  the  edge  of  the  lower  mandible,  27*2  ;  tar- 
sus, Ifa  ;  middle  toe,  1\  ;  its  claw,  -if ;  weight  3oz. 

"  Adult  female. 

"The  female  resembles  the  male,  but  is  rather  larger." 

Audubon's  Birds  of  America. 


UPLAND    SHOOTING. 


93 


"  This  bird  is  well  known  to  our  sportsmen,  and  if  not  the 
same,  has  a  very  near  resemblance  to  the  common  Snipe  of 
Europe.  It  is  usually  known  by  the  name  of  the  English 
Snipe,  to  distinguish  it  from  the  Woodcock,  and  from  several 
others  of  the  same  genus. 

"  It  arrives  in  Pennsylvania  about  the  10th  of  March,  and 
remains  in  the  low  grounds  for  several  weeks,  the  greater  part 
then  move  off  to  the  north  and  to  the  higher  inland  districts,  to 
breed.  A  few  are  occasionally  found  and  consequently  breed 
in  our  low  marshes  during  the  summer.  When  they  first 
arrive  they  are  usually  lean,  but  when  in  good  order  are 
accounted  excellent  eating.  They  are  perhaps  the  most  diffi- 
cult to  shoot  of  all  our  birds,  as  they  ily  in  sudden  zigzag  lines, 
and  very  rapidly.  Great  numbers  of  these  birds  winter  on  the 
rice  grounds  of  the  Southern  States,  where,  in  the  month  of 
February,  they  appeared  to  be  much  tamer  than  they  usually  are 
here,  as  I  have  frequently  observed  them  running  about  among 
the  springs  and  watery  thickets.  I  was  told  by  the  inhabitants 
that  they  generally  disappeared  in  the  spring.  On  the  20th 
of  March  I  found  these  birds  extremely  numerous  on  the  bor- 
ders of  the  ponds  near  Louisville,  Ky.,  and  also  in  the  neigh- 
borhood of  Lexington,  in  the  same  State,  as  late  as  the  10th 
of  April.  I  was  told  by  several  people  that  they  are  abundant 
in  the  Illinois  country  up  as  far  as  Lake  Michigan.  They  are 
but  seldom  seen  in  Pennsylvania  during  the  summer,  but  are 
occasionally  met  with  in  considerable  numbers,  on  their  return 
in  autumn,  along  the  whole  east  side  of  the  Alleghany,  from 
the  sea  to  the  mountains.  They  have  the  same  soaring, 
irregular  flight  in  the  air,  in  gloomy  weather,  as  the  Snipe  of 
Europe ;  the  same  bleating  note,  and  occasional  rapid  descent, 
spring  from  the  marshes  with  the  like  feeble  squeak,  and  in 
every  respect  resemble  the  common  Snipe  of  Great  Britain, 
except  in  being  about  an  inch  less,  and  in  having  sixteen  fea- 
thers in  the  tail  instead  of  fourteen,  the  number  said  by  Bewick 
to  be  in  that  of  Europe.  From  these  circumstances  we  must 
either   conclude    this   to  be   a   different   species,   or   partially 


I'll  I 
Ml 


i 

'  Ml 

I' 


n  h 


t).J 


riJAMC  n»ui;.>Ti:u  s  iiKi.n  spoiiis. 


ii:  i  i 


changcil  liy  diilerciu'c  of  cliiniilo ;  the  former  appears  to  nic  the 
most  prohalile  o[)inioii  of  tlio  two. 

"  These  Itirils  abouiul  in  llie  meadows  and  low  grounds  aloii" 
our  large  rivers,  particularly  those  tiiat  horder  the  Scluiylkill  and 
Delaware,  from  the  10th  of  Mart-h  to  the  middle  of  April,  and 
sometiiuos  later,  and  are  eagerly  souglit  after  by  our  gunners. 
The  nature  of  tlie  grounds,  however,  which  these  birds  fre- 
(pu-  1'.,  the  coldness  of  the  season,  and  peculiar  shyness  and 
agility  of  the  game,  renders  this  amusement  attractive  only  to 
the  most  dexterous,  active,  and  eager  of  our  sportsmen."  — 
Wilson's  Am.  Oniithohyy. 

The  last  of  what  may  bo  called  the  purely  Upland  game 
birds  of  North  America,  is  that  commonly  known  as  the  Up- 
land Plover,  also  called  the  Frost  Bird  and  Grass  Plover,  from 
the  places  which  it  frequents,  and  the  periods  at  which  it  is 
found  in  perfection.  It  is,  in  my  opinion,  with  no  exception, 
unless  perhaps  it  be  the  Canvass  Back  Duck,  the  most  delicious 
bird  that  flies.  Though  generally  known  as  a  Plover,  it  does 
not  belong  to  that  species,  but  to  that  of  7htanus,  Tatler,  a  sort  of 
connecting  link  between  the  Snipes  and  Sandpipers — the  Plover 
proper  having  no  hind  toe.  This  is  the  only  one  of  the  three 
families  above  named  that  is,  in  the  United  States,  a  land  bird, 
its  habits  being  those  of  the  European  Golden  Plover,  the 
American  namesake  of  which  is  essentially  a  shore  bird.  The 
Upland  Sandpiper,  or  Tatler,  is  thus  described  by  Mr.  Audubon  : 


BARTRAM'S  TATLER. 

Totanus  Bartramius —  Upland  Plover,  Upland  Sandpiper,  Frost 
bird,  Grass  Plover. 

"  Male,  12i.22.     Female,  13.22J. 

"  From  Texas  along  the  coast  to  Nova  Scotia.  Breeds  fronj 
Maryland  northward  to  the  Saskatchewan.  In  vast  flocks  in 
Louisiana,  Oppelousas,  and  the  Western  Prairies,  in  '•'itumn  and 
spring.     Rare  in  Kentucky. 


UPLAND    SIIOOTINQ. 


00 


"  Adult  Mule. 

"Bill  a  little  longer  tl>an  the  head,  sleiulor,  straight,  slightly 
deflected  at  the  end.  Uppei  inaiidihle  willi  the  dorsal  line 
straight,  the  edges  convex,  the  sides  grooved  beyond  the  middle, 
afterward  convex,  the  edges  inflected,  the  tips  a  little  deflected, 
and  tapering  to  an  ohtuse  point.  Nostrils  sub-basal,  lateral, 
linear,  pervious,  nearer  the  edge  than  the  dorsal  line.  Lower 
mandible  with  the  angle  very  narrow  and  elongated,  beyond  it 
the  outline  slightly  convex,  the  sides  sloping  outward  and  con- 
cave until  the  middle,  afterward  flattened,  the  edges  sharj),  the 
point  very  narrow. 

"  Head  railier  small,  convex  above,  compressed.  Neck  of 
moderate  length,  slender.  Body  rather  slender.  Feet  long  and 
slender,  tibia  bare  about  half  its  length,  scutellate  before  and 
behind  ;  tarsus  long,  slender,  having  before  and  behind  numerous 
scutella ;  the  narrow  lateral  spaces  with  very  small,  oblong 
scales.  Toes  slender ;  the  first  very  short,  the  second  much 
shorter  than  the  fourth,  the  third  and  fourth  connected  at  the 
base  by  a  web  ;  the  scutella  numerous  ;  claws  small,  compressed, 
slightly  arched,  rather  blunt. 

"  Plumage  soft ;  on  the  neck  and  lower  parts  blended  ;  on  the 
upper  rather  distinct.  Wings  rather  long,  acute,  narrow.  Pri- 
maries tapering  and  rounded  ;  the  first  longest,  the  second  a  little 
shorter,  the  rest  rapidly  graduated  ;  secondari  es  obliquely  round- 
ed, the  inner  elongated  and  tapering.  Tail  of  moderate  length, 
much  rounded,  of  twelve  rather  narrow  feathers. 

"  Bill  yellowish-green,  tip  dusky,  the  edges  toward  the  base 
yellow.  Iris  dark  hazel.  Legs  and  tarsi  light  yellowish-gray, 
toes  rather  darker,  claws  brownish-black.  Upper  part  of  the 
head  dark  brown,  with  a  median  pale  yellowish  hrown  line  ; 
the  margins  of  the  feathers  also  of  that  color  which  prevails 
along  the  sides  of  the  head  and  the  back  of  the  neck,  which  are 
streaked  with  dusky  ;  the  eye  surrounded  with  yellowish-white. 
Throat  yellowish-white,  without  spots  ;  forepart  and  sides  of  the 
neck,  with  a  portion  of  the  breast  and  sides  of  the  hody,  cream- 
colored,  with  dusky  lines,  which  gradually  become  arrow-shaped 

VOL.   I.  Q 


\M 


v>   I 


II 


^1 


p' 


96 


PttANK    FORESTER  S    FIELD    SI'ORTS. 


on  the  l)roiist,  fortiiiii;^  a  doiililc  trniisvcrse  bimtl ;  tlio  fciithors 
on  tlic  side  liiiiicd  ;  the  rest  of  the  lower  parts  and  lower  winjj 
coverts  white,  handed  with  brownish-black.  On  tiie  upper 
parts  the  leathers  are  dark  brown,  glossed  with  green,  with  rich 
creain-colorcil  margins  ;  the  rump  darker.  On  the  margins  of 
thn  scapulars,  within  the  pale  edge,  is  a  series  of  dusky  spots 
which,  toward  the  end,  become  continuous.  Alula,  jirimary 
coverts,  and  primary  quills  blackish-brown,  the  inner  webs 
crossed  by  white  bands,  until  about  an  inch  from  the  end  ;  the 
shaft  of  the  first  .luill  white,  those  of  the  rest  dusky.  Secon- 
daries grayish-brown,  their  outer  margins  pale  iirown  with  dusky 
spots ;  the  inner  darker.  The  two  middle  feathers  of  the  (ail 
are  dark  olive,  tinged  with  gray,  transversely  barred  with  black, 
the  last  bar  arrow-shaped,  the  margins  light  cream-color,  the 
next  feather  on  each  side  lighter,  and  tinged  with  yellowish- 
red  ;  the  rest  gradually  lighter,  the  outer  white,  all  barred  with 
black. 

"  Length  to  the  end  of  tail,  121  inches;  to  the  end  of  wings, 
II i ;  to  the  end  of  the  claws,  13.j  ;  extent  of  wings,  22  ;  wing 
from  flexure,  7;  tail,  3j  ;  base  part  of  tibia,  VV  ;  tarsus,  l^j  ; 
first  toe,  tV  ;  claw,  o\  ;  bill  along  the  ridge,  Ij'a  ;  along  the  edge 
of  lower  mandible,  li'j  ;  weight,  6oz. 

"  Female. 

"  The  female  is  a  little  larger,  and  weighs  7oz.,  but  resem- 
bles the  male  in  color.  The  individual  of  which  the  weight  is 
here  given,  was  very  fat ;  but  I  have  never  met  with  any  that 
weighe  I  three-fourths  of  a  pound,  as  described  by  Wilson. 

"  The  Bartramian  Sandpiper  is  the  most  truly  terrestrial  of 
its  tribe  with  which  I  am  acquainted.  It  is  even  more  inclined 
at  all  seasons  to  keep  away  from  water  than  the  Kildeer  Plo- 
ver, which  may  often  be  seen  along  the  sandy  or  muddy  mar- 
gin of  the  shores  of  the  sea,  or  of  fresh-water  lakes  and  streams. 
Although  not  unfrequently  met  with  in  the  vicinity  of  such 
places,  it  never  ventures  to  wade  into  them ;  and  yet  the  form 
and  length  of  its  legs  and  feet,  would  naturally  induce  a  person 
not  acquainted  with  its  habits,  to  consider  it  as  a  wading-bird. 


I  I!    I 


i'\,>i 


UPLAND   SlUK)    lN(i. 


97 


"  The  dry,  upliind  plains  (if  those  sections  of  Louisiana,  call- 
ed Oppclousns  und  Attiikiipas,  arc  amjdy  peopleil  with  this  spe- 
cies einly  in  spring,  as  well  as  in  autiinin.  They  arrive  there 
from  the  vast  prairies  of  Texas  ami  Mexico,  where  they  spend 
the  winter,  in  the  iieginning  of  .March  or  ahout  the  lirst  appear- 
ance of  the  Martins — irinindo  I'lirpiircd — and  return  aliout  tiio 
(irst  of  August.  They  are  equally  ahundant  on  all  the  Western 
Prairies  on  either  side  of  the  Missouri,  where,  however,  they 
arrive  ahout  a  month  later  than  in  Louisiana,  whence  they  dis- 
perse over  the  United  States,  reaching  the  Middle  Districts  early 
in  May,  and  the  State  of  Maine  hy  the  middle  of  that  month,  or 
alfout  the  same  period  at  which  they  are  seen  in  Indiana,  Ken- 
tucky and  Ohio.  Some  proceed  as  far  north  as  the  plains  ad- 
joining the  Saskatchewan  River,  where  Dr.  Richardson  met  with 
this  species  in  May. 

"  It  has  heen  supposed  that  the  Bartramian  Sandpiper  never 
forms  large  flocks  ;  but  this  is  not  correct — for  in  the  neighhor- 
hood  of  New  Orleans,  where  it  is  calltnl  the  *  Papahote,'  it 
usually  arrives,  in  great  hands,  in  sprini»,  and  is  met  with  on  the 
open  plains  and  large  grassy  savannahs,  Avherc  it  generally  re- 
mains about  two  weeks, — though  snmetimes  individuals  may  be 
seen  as  late  as  the  15th  of  May.  I  have  observed  the  same  cir- 
cumstance on  our  Western  Prairies,  but  have  thought  that  they 
were  afterward  obliged  to  se|)arate  into  small  flocks,  or  even 
into  pairs,  as  soon  as  they  are  ready  to  seek  proper  places  for 
breeding  in  ;  for  I  have  >>cldom  found  more  than  two  pairs  with 
nests  or  young  in  the  same  field  or  piece  of  ground.  On  their 
first  arrival,  they  are  generally  thin,  but  on  their  return  south- 
ward, in  the  beginniini;  of  August,  when  they  tarry  in  Louisiana 
until  the  first  of  October,  they  are  fat  and  juicy.  I  have  observed 
that,  in  spring,  w  hen  they  are  poor,  thoy  are  usually  much  less 
shy  than  in  autumn,  when  they  are  exceedingly  wary  and  difii- 
cult  of  approach  ;  but  this  general  observation  is  not  without 
exceptions,  and  the  diflerence,  I  think,  depends  on  the  nature  of 
the  localities  in  u  hich  they  happen  to  be  found  at  either  period. 
When  on  new  t>»- -ploughed  fields,  which  they  are  fond  of  fre- 


i 


111 


r  li 


\ 


m 


rf-s 


!■■   i 
■■\'<    I 


98 


FRANK    forester's    FIELD    SPORTS. 


quenting,  they  see  a  person  at  a  greater  distance  than  wh(  ti  they 
are  searching  for  food  among  the  slender  grasses  of  the  plains. 
I  have  also  thought  that  the  size  of  the  flocks  may  depend  upon 
similar  contingencies  ;  for  this  bird  is  by  no  means  fond  of  the 
society  of  man. 

"  Like  the  Spotted  Sandpiper — Tolanus  Macularius — they  not 
unfrequently  alight  on  fences,  trees  and  out-houses ;  but,  whe- 
ther in  such  situations  or  on  the  ground,  they  seldom  settle 
without  raising  both  wings  upright  to  their  full  extent,  and  ut- 
tering their  loud,  prolonged  and  pleasing  notes  They  run  with 
great  activity,  stop  suddenly,  and  vibrate  their  body  once  or 
twice. 

"  When  earnestly  followed  by  the  sportsman,  they  lower  their 
neads  in  the  manner  of  Wilson's  Plover,  and  the  species  called 
the  Piping,  and  run  off"  rapidly,  or  squat,  according  to  the  urg- 
ency of  the  occasion.  At  other  times,  they  partially  extend 
their  wings,  run  a  few  steps  as  if  about  to  fly,  and  then  cun- 
ningly move  off"  sideways,  and  conceal  themselves  among  the 
grass,  or  behind  a  clod.  You  are  unfrequently  rendered  aware 
of  your  being  near  them  by  unexpectedly  hearing  their  plain- 
tive and  mellow  notes,  a  circumstance,  however,  which  I 
always  concluded  to  be  indicative  of  the  wariness  of  their  dis- 
position ;  for,  although  you  have  just  heard  those  well-known 
cries,  yet,  on  searching  for  the  bird  itself,  you  nowhere  see  it — 
for  the    cunning    creature    has    slipped    away  and   hid   itself. 


When  wounded  in  the  wing,  they  run  to  a  great  distance,  and 
are  rarely  found. 

"  Like  all  experienced  travellers,  they  appear  to  accommo- 
date themselves  to  circumstances,  as  regards  their  food — for  in 
Louisiana  they  feed  on  cantharides  and  other  coleopterous  insects ; 
in  Massachusetts  on  grasshoppers,  on  which  my  friend  Nut- 
tall  says  they  soon  grow  fat ;  in  the  Carolinas  on  crickets 
and  other  insects,  as  well  as  the  seeds  of  the  crab-grass — Digi- 
taria  Sanguinaria — and  in  the  Barrens  of  Kentucky  they  often 
pick  the  strawberries.  Those  which  feed  much  on  cantharidys 
require  to  be  very  carefully  cleaned,  otherwise  persons  eating 


(    !: 


UPLAND    SHOOTING. 


99 


.s 


n 


them  are  liable  to  suffer  severely  Several  gentlemen  of  New 
Orleans  have  assured  me  that  they  have  seen  persons  at  dinner 
obliged  to  leave  the  room  at  once,  under  such  circumstances  as 
cannot  well  be  described  here.  When  flavored  with  the  ripe 
strawberries  on  which  they  have  fed,  their  flesh  is  truly  deli- 
cious. 

"  This  species  performs  its  migrations  by  night  as  well  as  by 
day.  Its  flight  is  rather  swift,  and  well  sustained.  While  tra- 
velling, it  generally  flies  so  high  as  to  be  beyond  the  reach  of 
the  gun  ;  but,  if  the  weather  be  cloudy,  or  if  it  blow  hard,  it 
flies  lower,  and  may  be  easily  shot.  It  generally  proceeds  in 
straggling  bands,  and  moves  along  with  continuous  easy  beats 
of  its  wings,  but  sails  as  it  were,  when  about  to  alight,  as  well 
as  during  the  love  season. 

"  As  long  ago  as  1805  and  1806,  I  observed  this  species 
breeding  in  the  meadows  and  green  fields  of  my  plantation  of 
Millgrove,  near  the  banks  of  the  Perkioming  Creek.  Since 
then,  I  have  known  of  its  rearing  broods  in  difierent  parts  of 
Pennsylvania,  in  the  State  of  New  York,  and  in  various  dis- 
tricts to  the  Eastward,  as  far  as  the  confines  of  Maine  ;  but  I  did 
not  find  it  in  Newfoundland  or  Labrador  ;  and  I  have  reason  to 
believe  that  it  does  not  breed  to  the  south  of  Maryland. 

"  I  have  found  the  eggs  of  this  bird  laid  on  the  bare  earth,  in 
a  hollow,  scooped  out  to  the  depth  of  about  an  inch  and  a  half, 
near  the  roots  of  a  tuft  of  rank  grass,  in  the  middle  of  a  mea- 
dow ;  and'  have  seen  some  nests  of  the  same  species  formed  of 
loosely-arranged  grasses,  and  placed  almost  beneath  low  bushes, 
growing  on  poor,  elevated  ridges,  furnished  with  a  scanty  vege- 
tation. When  disturbed  while  on  its  nest,  but  unobserved,  it 
runs  thirty  or  forty  yards,  and  then  flies  off",  as  if  severely 
wounded.  Should  it  have  young,  its  attempts  to  decoy  you 
away  are  quite  enough  to  induce  you  to  desist  from  distressing 
it.  The  eggs  measure  an  inch  and  five  and  a-half  eighths  by  an 
inch  and  a  quarter  in  their  greatest  breadth.  In  form  they  re- 
semble those  of  the  Totaniis  Maculariiis,  being  broadly  rounded 
ut  one  end  and  rather  pointed  at  the  other  ;  their  surface  sinooth, 


m 


iif 


i 


100 


KKANK     FOUESTEK's    FIELD    SPOKTS. 


'        I 


their  ground  color  dull  gvayish-yellow,  with  numerous  spots  of 
hght  purple  and  reddish-brown.  They  are  placed  in  the  nest  in 
the  same  manner  as  those  of  the  Spotted  Sandpiper ;  that  is, 
with  the  smaller  ends  together ;  which  is  also  the  case  with  those 
of  the  Telltale  Godwit,  Wilson's  Plover,  and  the  Kildeer  Plo- 
ver."— Auduhoii's  Birds  of  America. 

From  these  seven  species,  constituting  the  Upland  Game 
Birds,  proper,  of  the  United  States — for  reasons  which  have 
been  stated  above,  1  prefer  to  consider  the  Wild  Turkey  under 
the  head  of  Western  Sporting — 1  come  to  the  two  varieties  of 
Hare — Pseudo  Rabbit,  and  White  Rabbit ;  the  true  genera  and 
distinctive  marks  of  which  are  subjoined. 


THE    AMERICAN    HARE. 

Lepus  Americanus.     Lepus  Virginianus. 

I  have  already  mentioned,  that  there  is  no  variety  of  Rabbit 
found  on  this  continent ;  although,  from  the  smaller  size,  the 
lighter  and  grayer  color  of  its  fur,  and  its  general  resemblance 
to  the  wild  Rabbit  of  Europe,  the  smaller  species — Lepus  Ame- 
ricanus— which  is  found  in  almost  every  part  of  the  United 
States  and  Canada,  is  invariably  termed,  and  very  generally  be- 
lieved to  be  a  Rabbit. 

This  misnomer  is  not,  like  the  calling  Grouse  "  Pheasant,  and 
Partridge,"  a  mere  error  in  nomenclature,  used  by  persons  who 
are  well  aware  of  the  distinction,  and  sometimes  adopt  the 
false  instead  of  the  true  name,  as  it  were  compulsorily,  and  in 
order  to  make  themselves  understood  by  the  ignorant — as  I  have 
found  myself  obliged  to  term  Woodcock  Blind  Snipe,  in  conver- 
sation with  country  people — but  is  an  absolute  mistake,  Avhich 
is  held  by  many  sportsmen,  who  will  not  be  convinced  of  the 
contrary. 

Sportsmen  are,  indeed,  but  too  apt  to  undervalue,  and  even 
ridicule,  the  minute  distinctions  of  the  naturalist ;  not  understand- 
ing how  so  small  differences  as  are  in  some  questions  alone  do- 


UPLAND    SHOOTING. 


101 


O 

le 

in 

•e 

r- 

:h 

\e 

en 
d- 


above  eighteen 
not  weigh  above  two 


cisive  of  species  and  genera,  can  be  of  the  weight  ascribed  to 
them  ;  and  will  persist,  even  after  they  are  informed  to  the  con- 
trary, in  supporting  their  own  opinion  against  the  definitions  of 
science  ;  which  is,  in  fact,  not  one  whit  less  ridiculous  than  it 
were  for  any  one  to  dispute  with  the  philosojAer  the  earth's 
roundness,  or  the  sun's  volume,  because  his  eyes  cannot  discern 
all  that  is  taught  by  science. 

The  European  Hare,  it  is  well  known,  is  more  than  double 
the  size  and  weight  of  the  American  variety  ;  weighing,  when 
full  grown,  from  six  to  eight  pounds ;  and  measuring  two  feet  in 
length — while  the  American  congener  is  not 
inches  long,  at  the  utmost,  and  does 
pounds.  It  is  natural  enough,  therefore,  that  the  European 
sportsman  should  be  inclined  to  doubt  the  fact,  associating  his 
ideas  of  the  animal  with  the  large  kind  which  he  has  hunted  or 
shot  at  home,  when  he  is  told  that  the  little  grayish  creature, 
which  so  very  closely  resembles  the  Rabbit  of  his  country  in 
size,  is  not  a  Rabbit  but  a  Hare. 

In  many  points,  moreover,  connected  with  his  haunts,  habits 
and  history,  the  small  Hare  of  America  resembles  the  Rabbit  of 
the  eastern  continent ;  although  in  others  more  marked,  and,  in- 
indeed,  positively  decisive  of  his  species,  the  two  arimals  differ 
entirely. 

The  points  of  similarity  lie  in  this,  that  the  smaller  American 
Hare,  like  the  Rabbit  of  Europe,  loves  craggy  and  inaccessible 
wooded  hill-sides  ;  and,  when  hard  pressed  by  dogs,  will  betake 
itself  to  holes  and  clefts  in  the  rock ;  and  that  he  has  the  same 
skulking  habit,  and  much  the  same  motion. 

The  great  difference  is,  that  he  never  dwells  in  vast  congrega 
tions,  or  warrens,  and  never  burrows  in  the  earth  for  his  habi- 
tual dwelling-place.     This  point,  with  some  others,  of  structure 
and  breeding,  is  decisive  against  his  being  a  Rabbit. 

"  The  American  Hake — Lepua  Americanus — vulg.  The  Rabbit. 
"Length,  from  nose  to  tip  of  hind  claws,  16  inches;  length 


« 


i: 


i       I 


102 


FRANK    forester's    FIELD    SPORTS. 


of  hind  legs,  lOjV;  of  head,  3^"^  i  of  ears,  3^\  ;  of  tail,  2^%; 
weight,  3  to  4lbs. 

"  Ears  shorter  than  the  head.  Forehead  convex.  Claws 
sharp-pointed,  and  nearly  straight.  Upper  anterior  innsors 
white,  with  a  deep,  longitudinal  groover  near  their  inner  mar- 
gin ;  the  small  incisors  behind  short,  oppressed  to  the  anterior 
incisors,  and  inserted  into  the  upper  maxillary.  First  molar 
above  simple,  recurved  ;  the  four  succeediiig  larger,  and  of 
nearly  equal  size,  composed  of  double  folds  of  enamel ;  the  last 
simple,  cylindrical,  directed  forward,  and  scarcely  attaining  the 
length  of  its  predecessors.  Beneath,  the  incisors  are  smooth,  in 
front  long  and  subquadrate.  The  first  molar  inclined  backward, 
grooved  before,  and  with  a  double  groove  on  the  outer  surface ; 
the  succeeding  ones  to  the  last  upright,  nearly  equal,  with  a  sin- 
gle groove  and  two  prominent  ridges  on  their  external  surfaces  ; 
the  last  smallest,  inclined  forward,  with  a  slight  groove  on  the 
external  surface,  and  the  tip  exhibits  a  double  case  of  enamel. 

"  Color. — In  summer  the  general  color  is  yellowish-brown, 
which  becomes  more  or  less  rufous  on  the  outer  surface  of  the 
extremities  and  on  the  breast.  Margin  of  the  eyes  blackish- 
brown,  and  outside  of  this  a  circle  of  yellowish-white.  Throat 
and  under  side  of  the  tail  white.  Abdomen  grayish-white. 
Ears  edged  with  white  and  tipped  with  brown.  Fur  plumbeous, 
lead-colored  at  the  base,  and  for  much  of  its  length.  In  winter 
the  fur  becomes  longer,  and  the  upper  surface  of  the  head  and 
body  lighter,  occasionally  iron-gray ;  but  I  have  never  seen  it  as 
white  as  is  stated  by  Godman.  There  may,  however,  be  white 
varieties  ;  but  it  cannot  be  said  to  have  two  distinct  coats  of  fur. 

"  The  most  remarkable  distinctions  of  this  species,  by  which 
it  is  discernible  alike  from  the  Rabbit  and  the  common  Hare  of 
America,  are  as  follows  : — Tst.  His  size,  which  is  much  inferior 
to  that  of  the  common  or  variable  Hare,  and  little  superior  to  that 
of  the  common  wild  Rabbit  of  Europe  ;  whence  he  is  frequently 
confounded  with  the  Rabbit.  2d.  The  proportion  of  his  legs  ; 
the  hind  legs  being  longer,  the  fore  legs  shorter  than  those  of 
the  larger  Hares.     3d.  The  color  and  length  of  the  ears,  which 


UPLAND    SHOOTING, 


103 


hiivo  a  black  margin  at  the  outside,  and  no  black  mark  at  the 
tip,  and  are  also  shorter  than  those  of  the  common  Hare.  4th, 
The  upper  side  of  the  tail  is  less  black.  5th.  The  body  is 
grayer  than  that  of  the  other  species  of  Hare.  6th.  Its  habits, 
which  are  purely  those  of  a  Hare,  as  distinct  from  those  of  the 
Rabbit. 

"  Unlike  its  congener,  the  Northern  or  Varying  Hare,  it  does 
not  confine  itself  to  the  woods,  but  is  frequently  found  in  open 
fields,  or  where  there  is  a  slight  copse  or  underbrush.  It  never 
burrows,  like  its  closely-allied  species,  the  European  Rabbit,  but 
makes  its  form,  which  is  a  slight  depression  in  the  ground,  shel- 
tered by  some  low  shrub.  It  frequently  resorts  to  a  stone  wall, 
a  heap  of  stones,  or  a  hollow  tree,  and  sometimes  to  the  burrow 
of  some  other  animal.  Its  food  consists  of  bark,  buds,  grass, 
wild  berries,  &c.  Its  habits  are  nocturnal.  It  breeds  three 
times  in  the  season,  producing  from  four  to  six  at  a  birth.  It 
has  not  a  wide  geographical  range,  being  found  from  New 
Hampshire  to  Florida.  Its  western  limits  are  not  yet  ascer- 
tained."—DeAa^'s  Nat.  Hist.  o/N.  York,  &c. 

In  addition  to  this,  I  think  it  well  to  observe,  that  this  is  a 
solitary  animal,  not  gregarious  and  congregating  in  large  com- 
panies, and  not  breeding  monthly,  like  the  European  Rabbit ; 
ff.id  that,  so  far  as  my  own  observation  goes,  it  does  not  change 
its  color  in  winter.  Dr.  Dekay  evidently  leans  to  this  latter 
opinion,  in  spite  of  other  authorities,  who  have  evidently  con- 
founded this  with  the  following  species : 


THE    NORTHERN    HARE. 
Varying  Hare — Lepus  Virginianus. —  Vulgo,  White  Rabbit. 

"  Length  of  head  and  body,  20-25  inches  ;  of  the  hind  legs, 
lly-a  ;  of  fore  legs,  6/2 ;  of  the  head,  Sy'k;  of  the  ears,  3,-V  ;  of 
the  tail,  Ifl-;  weight,  6Uhs. 

"  Head  short ;  nose  blunt ;  eyes  large  and  prominent ;  ears 
broad  and  approximated  ;  upper  anterior  incisors  long  and  slen- 


<!         i    i 


J  04 


FRANK    FORESTER'S    FILLD    SPORTS. 


a:;  i 


der,  moderately  grooved ;  the  small  posterior  incisors  not  act 
large  as  in  the  preceding  species  ;  lower  incisors  wedge-shaped, 
nearly  straight.  Molars  more  compressed  and  broader  than  in 
the  preceding  species.  Skull  depressed  between  the  orbits. 
Body  covered  with  loose,  shaggy  hair.  Feet  thickly  covered 
with  hair  above  and  beneath,  concealing  the  long,  thin,  and 
slightly  curved  claws.  Whiskers  long  and  numerous,  black, 
or  black  and  white  ;  a  tuft  of  three  or  four  over  the  eyes,  and 
some  beneath  the  chin. 

"  Independently  of  the  change  by  season  of  this  Hare,  it  may 
be  said  that  at  no  time,  unless  in  high  northern  latitudes,  can  two 
individuals  be  found  marked  precisely  alike.  At  all  seasons 
the  baf  e  of  the  fur  is  lead  colored  above,  and  white  beneath. 

^^  Winter  Dress. — White,  or  nearly  so,  with  irregular  spots 
and  dashes  of  a  bright  fawn  color,  which  is  more  apparent  on 
the  ears,  forelegs  and  rump  ;  ears  margined  with  blackish-brown 
above,  being  deeper  toward  the  tips ;  tail,  and  all  beneath, 
white. 

"  Summer  Dress. — Above,  bright  fawn  or  reddish-brown  ; 
forehead,  cheeks  and  ears  of  the  same  color ;  all  beneath, 
white  ;  edges  of  the  ears  white,  bordered  with  darker,  particu- 
larly toward  the  tip.  At  all  seasons  the  hair  on  the  soles  is 
dirty  white.  Margin  of  the  eyelids,  dark  brown  ;  pupil  dark 
brown.     Iris  yellowish. 

"  It  is  a  distinct  variety,  differing  in  many  respects  from  the 
common  Hare,  Lepns  Timidus,  the  Varying  Hare,  Lepus  Varia- 
bilis., and  the  Alpine  Hare,  Lepus  Glacialis,  of  Europe. 

"  It  is  found  from  Canada  as  far  north  as  Hudson's  Bay, 
souther.y  to  the  northern  parts  of  Pennsylvania,  perhaps  even 
of  Virginia ;  but  in  the  Middle  States  is  only  found  in  moun- 
tainous and  roughly  wooded  districts. 

"  Its  period  of  gestation  is  about  six  weeks ;  it  bears  from 
four  to  six  young  at  a  litter. 

"  The  flesh  of  this  and  the  preceding  species  is  insipid,  dry, 
and  savorless,  depending  entirely  on  the  condiments  and  cooking 
for  its  moderate  goodness." — Dekay''s  Nat.  Hist. 


:.  in 


I  \M 


m 


UPLAND    SHOOTING. 


105 


With  these  seven  birds  and  two  quadrupeds  I  might  properly 
enough  close  my  enumeration  of  our  Upland  game.  There  are, 
however,  si\  species  of  Duck,  which  I  have  named  above — The 
Dusky,  t  ,jo  Black  Dvck;  The  Mallard;  The  Blue-winged 
and  The  Green-winged  Teal  ;  The  Summer,  or  Wood  Duck  ; 
and  The  Pintail  Duck;  all  of  which,  although  water  fowl, 
may  be  regarded  with  great  fitness  as  Upland  game,  since  they 
all  frequent  fresh  lakes,  marshes,  and  streams — are  frequently 
killed  in  swamps  far  inland,  and  many  hundreds  of  miles  above 
tide  water,  and  with  but  one  exception,  are  rarely  met  with  or 
taken,  in  very  great  abundance,  on  the  sea-shores,  or  even  on 
salt  marshes. 

The  Dusky  Duck  is  indeed  a  frequenter  of  the  bays  and  of 
Long  Island  Sound  ;  I  have,  however,  shot  him  so  often,  even 
over  dead  points  from  setters,  on  inland  meadows — his  flesh  is 
so  far  superior  when  so  taken,  and  above  all,  he  so  evidently 
prefers  fresh  feeding  grounds,  so  long  as  the  weather  will  per- 
mit— that  I  must  regard  him  rather  as  Upland  than  Shore  game. 
The  American  Widgeon,  and  The  Shoveller,  are  so  rare, 
except  on  the  great  western  waters,  which  are  indeed  frequented 
by  almost  every  variety  of  fowl,  excepting  only  a  few  of  the 
purely  Sea  Ducks,  that  it  is  needless  to  do  more  than  name 
them.  The  varieties  of  the  Mkrganser,  generally  known  as 
Sheldrake^  though  sufficiently  abundant,  I  can  scarce  bring 
myself  to  regard  as  game,  their  flesh  being  so  rank  and  fishy  as 
to  be  scarcely  eatable.  The  six  varieties  above  named,  as  being 
the  most  delicious,  and  in  plumage  the  most  beautiful  of  the 
whole  duck  tribe,  must  not  be  passed  over  so  lightly. 

The  first  of  these  which  I  shall  mention  as  being  worthy 
of  remark  as  the  parent  stock  of  our  domestic  Duck  and  Drake, 
second  in  succulence  and  flavor  to  none  but  the  Canvass  Back 
and  Red-head,  and  superior  to  all  except  the  Wood  Duck  in 
beauty,  is  the  Mallard. 


I 


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,  I  '■ 


I 


!     I 


\i 


i 


IU6 


FRANK   FOHESTER  S   FIELD   SPORTS. 


3.'  1 1 


THE    MALLARD. 

Anas  Boschas — k  Canard  Sauvage. — Brissot.     The  Greenhead. 

"  Male  24.36.     Female  22. 

"  Breeds  from  Texas  sparingly  throughout  the  United  States, 
Columbia  River,  and  Fur  Countries.  Abundant  during  the 
winter  in  all  the  Southern  Districts ;  not  found  in  Maine,  or 
Eastward. 

Adult  male. 

"  Bill  about  the  length  of  the  head,  higher  than  broad  at  the 
base,  depressed  and  widened  toward  the  end,  rounded  at  the 
tip.  Upper  mandible  with  the  dorsal  outline  sloping,  and  a 
little  concave  ;  the  ridge  at  the  base  broad  and  flat,  toward  the 
end  broadly  convex,  as  are  the  sides,  the  edges  soft  and  rather 
obtuse ;  the  marginal  lamellis  transverse,  fifty  on  each ;  the 
unguis  oval,  curved,  abrupt  at  the  end.  Nasal  groove  elliptical, 
sub-basal,  filled  by  the  soft  membrane  of  the  bill ;  nostrils  sub- 
basal,  placed  near  the  ridge,  longitudinal,  elliptical,  pervious. 
Lower  mandible  slightly  curved  upward,  with  the  angle  very 
long,  narrow,  and  rather  pointed,  the  lamellae  about  sixty. 

"  Head  of  moderate  size,  oblong,  compressed ;  neck  rather 
long  and  slender,  body  full,  depressed.  Feet  short,  stout, 
placed  a  little  behind  the  centre  of  the  body.  Legs  bare  a  little 
above  the  joint ;  tarsus  short,  a  little  compressed,  anteriorly 
with  scutella,  laterally  and  behind  with  small  reticulated  scales. 
Hind  toe  extremely  small,  with  a  very  narrow  membrane ; 
third  toe  longest ;  fourth  a  little  shorter,  but  longer  than  the 
second  ;  all  the  toes  connected  by  reticulated  membranes,  the 
outer  with  a  thick  margin,  the  inner  with  the  margin  extended 
into  a  slightly  lobed  Aveb.  Claws  small,  arched,  compressed, 
rather  acute  ;  that  of  the  middle  toe  much  larger,  with  a  dilated, 
thin  inner  edge. 

"  Plumage,  dense,  soft,  elastic  ;  of  the  head  and  neck,  short, 
blended,  and  splendent.     Of  the  other  parts  in  general,  broad 


UPLAND    SHOOTINQ. 


107 


ana  roundeil.  Wings  of  moderate  length,  acute ;  primaries 
narrow  and  tapering  ;  the  second  longest,  the  first  very  little 
shorter  ;  secondaries  broad,  curved  inward,  the  inner  elongated 
and  tapering.  Tail  short,  much  rounded,  of  sixteen  acute  fea- 
thers, of  which  the  four  central  are  recurved. 

"  Bill  greenish-yellow.  Iris  dark  brown.  Feet  orange-red. 
Head  and  upper  part  of  neck  deep  green,  a  ring  of  white  about 
the  middle  of  the  neck ;  lower  part  anteriorly,  and  fore  part  of 
breast  dark  brownish-chestnut ;  fore  part  of  back  light  yellowish- 
brown,  tinged  with  gray  ;  the  rest  of  the  back  brownish-black ; 
the  rump  black, splendent  with  green  and  purj)lish-l)lue  rellec- 
tions,  as  are  the  recurved  tail  feathers.  Upper  surface  of  wingj 
grayish-brown  ;  the  scapulars  lighter,  except  their  inner  webs, 
and  with  the  anterior  dorsal  feathers  minutely  undulated  with 
brown.  The  speculum,  or  beauty  spot,  on  iil)out  ten  of  the 
secondaries,  is  of  brilliant  changing  purple  and  green,  edged 
with  velvet-black  and  white,  the  anterior  bands  of  black  and 
white  being  on  the  secondary  coverts.  Breast,  sides,  and 
abdomen,  very  pale  gray,  minutely  undulated  with  darker  j 
lower  tail  coverts  black,  with  blue  reflections. 

"  Length  to  the  end  of  tail,  24  inches  ;  to  the  end  of  the  claws, 
23 ;  to  the  tips  of  the  wings,  22  ;  extent  of  wings,  36  ;  wing 
from  flexure,  10^;  tail,  41;  bill,  2-^^;  tarsus,  ]? ;  middle  toe, 
2,-\ ;  its  claw  /a  5  weight,  from  2^  to  31bs. 

"  Adult  female. 

"  Bill  black  in  the  middle,  dull  orange  at  the  extremities  and 
along  the  edges.  Iris  as  in  the  male,  as  are  the  feet.  The 
general  color  of  the  upper  parts  is  pale  yellowish-brown, 
streaked  and  spotted  with  dusky  brown.  The  feathers  of  the 
head  are  narrowly  streaked,  of  the  back  with  the  margin  and  a 
central  streak  yellowish-brown,  the  rest  of  the  scapulars  similar, 
but  with  the  light  streak  on  the  outer  web.  The  wings  are 
nearly  as  in  the  male ;  the  speculum  similar,  but  with  less 
green.  The  lower  parts  dull  olive,  deeper  on  the  lower  neck, 
and  spotted  with  brown. 

"  Length,  22  inches  ;  weight,  from  2lbs.  to  2^. 


!;;« 


n 


!       I 


OT« 


M 


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Ml 


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i   ! 

S   ' ' 


i  III 


108 


PHANK    FOnESTER's    FIELD    BPOnTS. 


"  Tlie  young  acquire  the  full  plumage  in  the  course  of  the 
first  winter." — Auduboii's  Jiinh  of  America, 

"  Tiie  common  Wild  Duck  is  found  in  every  fresh  water 
lake  and  river  of  the  United  States,  in  winter,  spring,  or  au- 
tumn, but  seldom  frequents  the  sea  shore  or  salt  marshes.  Their 
summer  residence  is  the  North,  the  great  nursery  of  this  nume- 
rous genus.  Inst.ances  have  been  known  of  some  solitary  pairs 
breeding  here  in  autumn  ;  in  England  these  instances  are  more 
common.  The  nest  is  usually  placed  in  the  most  solitary 
recesses  of  the  marsh  or  bog,  amidst  coarse  grass,  reeds,  and 
rushes  ;  and  generally  contains  from  twelve  to  sixteen  eggs,  of 
a  dull  greenish-white.  The  young, are  led  about  by  the  mother 
in  the  same  manner  as  those  of  the  tame  Duck,  but  with  a 
superior  caution,  cunning,  and  watchful  vigilance,  peculiar  to 
her  situation. 

"  The  male  attaches  himself  to  one  female,  as  among  other 
birds  in  their  native  state,  and  is  the  guardian  and  protector 
of  her  and  her  feeble  brood.  The  Mallard  is  numerous  in  the 
rice  fields  of  the  Southern  States  during  winter;  many  of  the 
fields  being  covered  with  a  few  inches  of  water,  and  the 
scattered  grains  of  the  former  harvest  lying  in  abundance,  the 
Ducks  swim  about  and  feed  at  pleasure.  The  flesh  of  the  commor 
Wild  Duck  is  in  general  and  high  estimation,  and  the  ingenuity 
of  man,  in  every  country  where  it  frequents,  has  been  empk)yed 
In  inventing  stratagems  to  overreach  these  Avary  birds,  and  pro- 
cure a  delicacy  for  the  table.  To  enumerate  all  these  various 
contrivances  would  far  exceed  our  limits ;  a  few,  however,  of 
the  most  simple  and  effective  may  be  mentioned.  In  some 
ponds  frequented  by  these  birds,  five  or  six  wooden  figures 
are  painted  so  as  to  represent  ducks,  and  sunk  by  pieces  of  lead 
nailed  on  the  bottoms,  so  as  to  float  at  the  usual  depth  on  the 
surface,  are  anchored  in  a  favorable  position  for  being  raked 
from  a  concealment  of  brush,  etc.,  on  shore.  The  appearance 
of  these  usually  attracts  passing  flocks,  which  alight,  and  are 
shot  down.    Sometimes  eight  or  ten  of  these  painted  wooden 


UPLAND    SIIOOTINO. 


loy 


(iiicks  are  fixed  on  ii  frame,  in  various  s\viinmin<];  postures,  and 
secured  to  tlic  bow  of  the  gunner'-  jkiflT,  projecting;  before  it  in 
such  a  manner  that  the  wcij^ht  of  the  frame  sinks  tlic  fij^ures  to 
the  proper  depth  ;  the  skill"  is  ti\cn  dressed  with  sed|j;e  or  coarse 
grass,  in  an  artful  manner,  as  low  as  the  water's  edt;e,  and  under 
cover  of  this,  which  appears  like  a  party  of  Ducks  swimming 
by  a  small  island,  the  j^unner  floats  down,  sometimes  to  the  very 
skirts  of  a  wh(de  congregated  multitude,  and  pours  in  a  destruc- 
tive and  repeated  fire  of  shot  among  them. 

"  In  Avinter,  when  detached  pieces  of  ice  are  occasionally 
floating  in  the  river,  some  of  the  gunners  on  the  Delaware  paint 
their  whole  skiff,  or  canoe,  white ;  and  laying  themselves  flat 
at  the  bottom,  with  the  hand  on  the  side,  silently  managing  a 
small  paddle,  direct  it  imperceptibly  into  or  near  a  flock,  before 
the  Ducks  have  distinguished  it  from  a  floating  mass  of  ice,  and 
generally  do  great  execution  among  them.  A  whole  flock  has 
sometimes  boen  thus  surprised  asleep,  with  their  heads  under 
their  wings. 

"  On  land,  another  stratagem  is  sometimes  practised  with  great 
success.  A  larsre,  tijrht  hogshead  is  sunk  in  the  flat  marsh  or 
mud,  near  the  pl.ace  where  Ducks  are  accustomed  to  feed  at 
low  water,  and  where,  otherwise,  there  is  no  shelter ;  the  edges 
and  top  are  carefully  concealed  with  tufts  of  long,  coarse  grass, 
and  reeds  or  sedges.  From  within  this,  the  gunner,  unseen 
and  unsuspected,  watches  his  collecting  prey ;  and  when  a  suf- 
ficient number  oflers,  sweeps  them  down  with  great  efl'ect. 

"  The  mode  of  catching  Wild  Ducks,  as  practised  in  India 
and  China,  the  island  of  Ceylon,  and  some  parts  of  South  Ameri- 
ca, has  been  often  described,  and  seems,  if  reliance  may  be 
placed  on  those  accounts,  only  practicable  in  water  of  a  certain 
depth.  The  sportsman,  covering  his  head  with  a  hollow  wooden 
vessel  or  calabash,  pierced  with  holes  to  see  through,  wades 
into  the  water,  keeping  his  head  only  above,  and  thus  dis- 
guised, moves  in  among  the  flock,  which  takes  the  appearance  to 
be  a  mere  floating  calabash,  while  suddenly  pulling  them  under 
by  the  legs,  he  fastens  them  to  his  girdle,  and  thus  takes  as 


h  ■ 


no 


FRANK    forester's   FIELD   SPORTS. 


many  as  he  can  conveniently  stow  away,  without  in  the  least 
alarming  the  rest.  They  are  also  taken  with  siiarcs  made  of 
horsehair,  or  with  hooks  haited  with  small  pieces  of  siioep's 
lights,  which,  floating  on  the  surface,  are  swallowed  by  the 
Ducks,  and  with  them  the  hooks.  They  arc  also  approached 
under  cover  of  a  stalking  horse,  or  a  figure  formed  of  thin 
boards,  or  other  proper  materials,  and  painted  so  as  to  represent 
a  horse  or  an  ox. 

"  But  all  these  methods  require  much  watching,  toil,  and 
fatigue  ;  and  their  success  is  but  trifling  when  compared  with 
that  of  the  decoys  now  used  both  in  France  and  Ihigland ; 
which,  from  its  superiority  over  every  other  mode,  is  well  de- 
serving the  attention  of  persons  of  this  coui.try  residing  in  the 
neighborhood  of  extensive  marshes  fretiuented  by  Wild  Ducks, 
as  by  this  method  Mallard  and  other  kinds  may  lie  taken  by- 
thousands  at  a  time." — TFi'/son's  Am.  Crnithology. 


!  '  I 


Next  in  size,  though  neither  in  beauty  nor  in  excellence,  to 
the  Mallard,  comes  the  Dusky  Duck,  better  known  in  every 
part  of  the  United  States  as  the  Black  Duck^  the  hitter  being  a 
misnomer  as  applied  to  this  fowl,  and  really  belonging  to  a  very 
different  bird,  which  will  be  treated  of  hereafter  with  the  Sea 
Ducks — Fu/iguliB.  This  bird,  unlike  the  former  species,  which 
is  common  to  both  continents,  Europe  and  America,  if  not  to 
Africa  and  Asia  also,  is  peculiar  to  North  America,  rangmg 
from  Labrador  to  Texas ;  in  both  of  which,  strange  to  say, 
and  in  all  the  intermediate  localities,  it  breeds  and  rears  its 
young. 


THE    DUSKY    DUCK. 

Anas  Obscura — Wilson^  Bonap.     The  Black  Duck. 

"  Breeds   in   Texas,  westward,  and   throughout   the  United 
States,    British    Provinces,   Labrador,   and    Columbia    River 


■i  i^ 


UPLAND    SIIOOTINO. 


Ill 


ComiT-.on  in  autuinii  iiiitl  .spriiij^  aloii;|  the  luiddlo   Atliintif  dis- 
tricts.    Abundiiiil  ill  the  Soutlicrn  mul  W'cHtcni  Stutes  in  winter. 

"  Adult  mulo. 

"  Dill  alioiit  tlio  Icngti*  of  the  h  •  .d,  liij^hi  i  tin  i  l)roiid  at  tlio 
base,  depressed  and  widened  ♦.owii:d  tlu)  jnd.  ;'.iiiided  at  the 
lip.  Ujujcr  Miandii)le  with  tin  dui:"il  !inc  .ilopiii^  and  a  little 
concave,  the  rid;j;c  at  the  base  br^a  I  I'l.l  Ij  it,  toward  '.bo  end 
broadly  convex,  as  are  the  side>  jibe  od^e'  soft  ai>d  tlin,  the 
niarjfinal  lamella',  about  forty  on  i.  .'.Ii  sido.  I'lif)  nnj^i  i:  ol.o'  atss, 
curved,  abrupt  at  the  end.  iNusai  {.^ro.ivo  sun-ba;:il.  o'l'iilical, 
fdled  with  the  soft  nieitdririo  i.f  the  !>iil ,  nostrils  sub-har-a;. 
placed  near  the  ridj^e,  l(/iij.^iiudinal,  elliptica.,  jiorvions  Low  ;;• 
mandible  slij^htly  curved  upwiivd,  llaltci'ii,  •.•>ith  ihv;  uvrw  voi\/ 
long,  narrow,  and  rather  pointind  j  tlm  hiiiu'll'    a'.iuut  flwy. 

"  Head  of  moderate  size,  oblcitr,  jompcfsspd.  Neck  rali.tM 
long  and  slender.  J3'Hly  full,  depiessoil.  Feci  diort,  stuu', 
placed  a  little  behind  the  centre  of  ihe  'tody.  Le.;»  ba'c  a  little 
above  the  joint.  Tarsus  short,  ii  little  tooiprcssi^d,  anteriorly 
with  small  scutclla,  externally  of  which  is  i  voiles  coi;'iiiUoits 
with  those  of  the  outer  toe,  laterally  imkI  bcliiui!  witn  re'-u  .'liUed 
angular  scales,  llind  toe  extremely  sntall,  wiih  .i,  vevy  larro*. 
membrane  ;  third  toe  longest,  fourth  a  little  shorter,  bin  lon!;cr 
than  the  second  ;  the  scutell."  of  !hn  second  and  third  o'.lii.ic, 
of  the  outer  transverse  ;  the  tlnco  anterioi  loes  conncciod  by 
reticulated  membranes,  the  o\U0'  v  ith  i  lldck  m^iigin,  the  inner 
with  a  margin  extended  intoas^'i^htly  lobod  veb.  Claws  small, 
arched,  comprci^sed,  rathpr  obtuse,  that  of  the  middle  toe  much 
larger,  with  a  dilatncl  iMn  etlge. 

"  Plumage  dense,  nM,  eiaslic  ;  on  the  neck  and  head  the  fea- 
thers linea  oDlong,  on  the  other  parts,  broad  !-..iJ  rounded. 
VV:n;js  of  moderate  breadth  and  length,  acute  ;  primaries  narrow 
and  tapering,  the  second  longest,  the  first  very  little  shorter ; 
secondaries  broad,  curved  inward  ;  the  inner  elongated  and  taper- 
ing. Tail  short,  much  rounded,  of  eighteen  acute  feathers,  none 
of  which  are  recurved. 

"  Bill  yelluwish-green,  the  unguis  dusky.     Iris  dark  brown. 

VOL..  1. 


'1 
I 


n 


I 


1  M 


I    1 
it 


si 


112 


FUANK    forester's    FIELD    Sl'DRTS. 


i 


■i      ' 


Feet  orange-red,  the  webs  dusky.  The  upper  part  of  the  ho 
is  gh)ssy  brownish-hliick,  the  feathers  margined  with  light 
brown  ;  the  sides  of  the  head  and  a  band  over  the  eye  are  liglit 
grayish-brown,  with  longitudinal  dusky  streaks  ;  the  middle  of 
the  neck  is  similar,  but  more  dusky.  The  general  color  is 
blackish-brown,  a  little  paler  beneath ;  all  the  feathers  margined 
with  pale,  reddish-brown.  The  wing  coverts  aregrayi.sh  dusky, 
with  a  slight  tinge  of  green ;  the  ends  of  the  secondary  coverts 
velvet-black.  Primaries  and  their  coverts  blackish-brown,  with 
the  shafts  brown ;  secondaries  darker  ;  the  speculum  is  green, 
blue,  violet,  or  amethyst-purple,  according  to  the  light  in  which 
it  is  viewed,  bounded  by  velvet-black  ;  the  feathers  also  tipjied 
with  a  narrow  line  of  white.  The  whole  under  surface  of  the 
wing  and  the  axillaries,  white. 

"  Length  to  the  end  of  tail,  24^  inches  ;  to  the  end  of  claws, 
20  ;  extent  of  wings,  SSj  ;  bill,  2,V  along  the  back  ;  wing  from 
flexure,  llj;  tail,  4^^ ;  tarsus,  l^J  ;  middle  toe,  2,^5;  first  toe, 
,V  ;  its  claw,  t'^  ;  weight,  3lbs. 

"  Adult  female. 

"  The  female,  which  is  somewhat  smaller,  resembles  the  male 
in  color,  but  is  more  brown,  and  has  the  speculum  of  the  same 
tints,  but  without  the  white  terminal  line. 

"  Length  to  the  end  of  tail,  22  inches  ;  to  the  end  of  wings, 
21]  ;  to  the  end  of  claws,  22  ;  wing  from  flexure,  10^  ;  extent 
of  wings,  34l ;  tarsus,  2  ;  middle  toe  and  claw,  2h  ;  hind  toe  and 
claw,  T2. 

"  This  species  extends  its  migrations  from  the  Straits  of  Belle- 
isle,  on  the  coast  of  Labrador,  to  Texas.  Strange  as  it  may 
seem,  it  breeds  in  both  of  these  countries,  and  in  many  of  the 
intermediate  places.  On  the  10th  of  May,  1833,  I  found  it 
breeding  along  the  marshy  edges  of  the  inland  pools,  near  the 
Bay  of  Fundy ;  and  on  Whitehead  Island,  in  the  same  bay,  saw 
several  young  birds  of  the  same  species,  which,  although  appa- 
rently not  a  week  old,  Avere  extremelj'^  active,  both  on  land  and 
water.  On  the  30th  of  April,  1837,  my  son  discovered  a  nest 
on  Galveston  Island,  in  Texas.     It  was  formed  of  grass  and 


UPLAND    SHOOTING. 


113 


feathers  :  the  eggs,  eight  m  number,  lying  on  the  former,  sur- 
rounded with  the  down  and  some  feathers  of  the  bird  to  tho 
height  of  about  three  inches.  The  internal  diameter  of  the  nest 
was  about  six  inches,  and  its  walls  were  nearly  three  in  thick- 
ness. The  female  was  sitting,  but  flew  off  in  silence  as  he  ap- 
proached. The  situation  was  a  clump  of  tall,  slender  grass,  on 
a  rather  sandy  ridge,  more  than  a  hundred  yards  from  the  near- 
est Avater,  but  surrounded  by  partially  dried  salt  marshes.  On 
the  same  island,  in  the  course  of  several  successive  days,  we 
saw  many  of  these  Ducks,  which,  i)y  their  actions,  showed  that 
they  also  had  nests.  I  may  here  state  my  belief,  that  the  Gad- 
wall,  Blue-winged  Teal,  Green-winged  Teal,  American  Widgeon 
and  Spoon-billed  Duck,  all  breed  in  that  country,  as  I  observed 
them  there  late  in  May,  when  they  we.e  evidently  paired.  IIow 
far  this  fact  may  harmonize  with  the  theories  of  writers  respect- 
ing the  migration  of  birds  in  general,  is  more  than  I  can  at  pre- 
sent stop  to  consider.  I  have  found  the  Black  Ducks  breeding 
on  lakes  near  the  Mississippi,  as  far  up  as  to  its  confluence  with 
the  Ohio,  as  well  as  in  Pennsylvania  and  New  Jersey ;  and 
every  one  acquainted  with  its  habits  will  tell  you  that  it  rears 
its  young  in  all  the  Eastern  States  intervening  between  that  last 
mentioned  and  the  St.  Lawrence.  It  is  even  found  on  the  Co- 
lumbia River,  and  on  the  streams  of  the  Rocky  Mountains ;  but 
as  Dr.  Richardson  has  not  mentioned  his  having  observed  it  in 
Hudson's  Bay,  or  farther  north,  we  may  suppose  that  it  does  not 
visit  those  countries. 

"  As  many  of  the  nests  found  in  Labrador  differed  from  the 
one  mentioned  above,  I  will  give  you  an  account  of  them  : — In 
several  instances,  we  found  them  imbedded  in  the  deep  moss,  at 
the  distance  of  a  few  feet,  or  a  few  yards  from  the  water  ;  they 
were  composed  of  a  great  ([uantity  of  dry  grass  and  other  vege- 
table substances  ;  and  the  eggs  were  always  placed  directly  on 
this  bed,  without  the  intervention  of  the  down  and  feathers, 
which,  however,  surrounded  them,  and  which,  as  I  observed, 
the  bird  always  uses  to  cover  them,  when  she  is  about  to  leave 
them  for  a  time.     The  eggs  are  two  inches  and  a  quarter  in 


114 


FRAN'K    forester's    FIELD    SPORTS. 


I 


length,  one  inch  and  five-eighths  in  breadth,  shaped  like  those 
of  a  domestic  fowl,  with  a  sn)ooth  surface,  and  of  a  uniform 
y«llowish-Avhite  color,  like  tiiat  of  ivory  tarnished  by  long  ex- 
posure. The  young,  like  those  of  the  Mallard,  acquire  the  full 
beauty  of  their  spring  plumage  before  the  season  of  reproduction 
commences,  but  exhibit  none  of  the  curious  changes  which  that 
species  undergo. 

''  Although  the  Dusky  Duck  is  often  seen  on  salt  water  bays 
or  inlets,  it  resembles  the  Mallard  in  its  habits,  being  fond  of 
swampy  marshes,  rice  fields,  and  the  shady  margins  of  our  riv- 
ers, during  the  whole  of  its  stay  in  such  portions  of  the  Southern 
States  as  it  is  known  to  breed  in.  They  are  equally  voracious, 
and  may  sometimes  be  seen  with  their  crops  so  protruded  as  to 
destroy  the  natural  elegance  of  their  form.  When  on  the  water, 
they  obtain  their  food  by  immersing  their  head  and  neck  in  the 
water,  and,  like  the  Mallard,  sift  the  pr  duce  of  muddy  pools. 
Like  that  species  also,  they  will  descend  in  a  spiral  manner  from 
on  high,  to  alight  under  an  oak  or  a  beech,  where  they  have  dis- 
covered the  mast  to  be  abundant. 

"  The  flight  of  this  Duck  is  powerful,  rapid,  and  as  sustained 
as  that  of  the  Mallard.  While  travelling  by  day,  they  may  be 
distinguished  from  that  species  by  the  wbiteness  of  their  lower 
wing-coverts,  which  form  a  strong  contrast  to  the  deep  tints  of 
the  rest  of  the  plumage.  Their  progress  through  the  air,  when 
at  full  speed,  must,  I  think,  be  at  the  rate  of  more  than  a  mile 
in  a  minute,  or  about  seventy  miles  an  hour.  When  about  to 
alight,  they  descend  with  double  rapidity,  causing  a  strong, 
rustling  sound  by  the  weight  of  their  compact  bodies  and  the 
rapid  movements  of  their  pointed  wings.  When  alarmed  by  a 
shot  or  otherwise,  they  rise  off  their  feet  by  a  powerful  single 
spring,  fly  directly  upwards  for  eight  or  ten  yards,  and  then  pro- 
ceed in  a  straight  line. 

"  The  Black  Ducks  generally  appear  in  the  Sound  of  Long 
Island  in  September  or  October,  but,  in  very  cold  weather,  pro- 
ceed Southward  ;  while  those  which  breed  in  Texas,  as  I  have 
been  informed,  remain  there  all  the  year.     At  their  arrival  they 


UPLAND    SHOOTING. 


115 


betake  themselves  to  the  fresh-water  ponds,  and  soon  become 
fat,  when  they  aflbrd  excellent  eating ;  but  when  the  ponds  are 
covered  with  ice,  they  betake  themselves  to  estuaries  or  inlets 
of  the  sea,  and  their  llcsh  becomes  less  juicy,  and  assumes  :i 
fishy  ilavor.  During  continued  frost,  they  cojl'act  into  larger 
bodies  than  at  any  other  time — a  flock  once  alighted  seeming  to 
attract  others,  until  at  last  hundreds  of  them  meet,  especially  in 
the  dawn  and  toward  sunset.  The  larger  the  flock,  however, 
the  more  ditRcult  it  is  to  aj)proach  it,  for  many  sentinels  arc  seen 
on  the  lookout,  while  the  rest  are  asleep  or  feeding  along  the 
shores.  Unlike  the  Sea  Ducks,  this  species  does  not  ride  at  an- 
chor, as  it  were,  during  its  hours  of  repose." — Audubon''s  Birds 
of  America. 

THE    BLUE-WINGED    TEAL. 
Anas  Discors. 


5? 

ke 
a 
le 


"  Male,  16.3U.     Female,  15.24. 

*'  Breeds  in  Texas  and  Westward,  Great  Lakes,  Fur  Coun- 
tries, Columbia  River.  Very  abundant  in  autumn  and  spring  in 
the  Middle  Atlantic  Districts,  as  well  as  in  the  interior.  Abun- 
dant also  in  all  the  Southern  States. 

"  Adult  Male. 

"  Bill  almost  as  long  as  the  head,  deeper  than  broad  at  the 
base,  depressed  toward  the  end  ;  its  breadth  nearly  e(iual  in  its 
whole  length,  being,  however,  a  little  enlarged  toward  the 
rounded  tip.  Upper  mandible  with  the  dorsal  outline  at  first 
sloping,  then  nearly  straight,  on  the  unguis  decurved,  the  ridge 
broad  and  flat  at  the  base,  suddenly  narrowed  over  the  nostrils, 
broader  and  convex  toward  the  end  ;  the  sides  erect  at  the  base, 
afterward  sloping  and  con^'ex  ;  the  narrow  membranous  mar- 
gins a  little  broader  at  the  end.  Nostrils  sub-basal,  near  the 
ridge,  rather  small,  elliptical,  pervious.  Lower  mandible  flat- 
tened, straight,  with  the  angle  very  long  and  rather  narrow,  the 


116 


FUANK    FOUESTEr's    FIELD  SPORTS. 


dorsal  line  very  short  and  slightly  convex,  the  sides  internally 
erect,  with  about  a  hundred  and  twenty  laniellce. 

"  Head  of  a  moderjite  size,  oblong,  compressed.  Neck  of 
moderate  length,  rather  slender.  Body  full,  depressed.  Feet 
siiort,  placed  rather  far  back.  Ta'  is  short,  compressed  at  its 
lower  part,  anteriorly  with  two  series  of  scutella,  tlie  rest  cov- 
ered with  reticulated  angular  scales.  Toes  with  numerous  scu- 
telia  above.  First  toe  very  small,  and  with  a  narrow  membrane 
beneath ;  third  longest ;  fourth  about  a  quarter  of  an  inch 
shorter ;  the  anterior  toes  united  by  reticulatt^.  webs,  of  which 
the  outer  is  deeply  sinuate.  Claws  small,  curved,  compressed, 
acute  ;  the  hind  one  smaller  and  more  curved,  that  of  the  third 
toe  largest,  ami  with  the  inner  margin  sharp. 

"  Plumage  dense,  soft  and  blended.  Feathers  of  the  head  and 
neck  very  small  and  slender — of  the  back  and  lower  parts  in 
general,  broad  and  rounded.  Wings  of  moderate  length,  rather 
narrow  and  acute  ;  primaries  strong,  slightly  curved,  tapering ; 
the  first  scarcely  longer  than  the  second,  the  rest  rapidly  de- 
creasing ;  secondaries  broad,  the  outer  obliquely  rounded,  the 
inner  elongated  and  acuminate,  as  are  the  scapulars.  Tail 
short,  rounded  and  acuminate,  of  fourteen  rather  narrow  acumi- 
nate feathers. 

"Bill  bluish-black.  Iris  dark  hazel.  Feet  dull  yellow; 
webs  dusky.  Claws  brownish-black,  with  the  tips  grayish-yel- 
low. Upper  part  of  the  head  black  ;  a  semilunar  patch  of  pure 
white  on  the  side  of  the  head  before  the  eye,  margined  before 
and  behind  with  black.  The  rest  of  the  head,  and  the  anterior 
parts  of  the  neck,  of  a  deep  purplish-blue,  with  purplish-red  re- 
flections ;  the  lower  hind  neck  and  fore-part  of  back  brownish- 
black,  glossed  with  green,  each  featiier  with  a  curved  band  of 
pale  reddish-buff,  and  a  line  or  band  of  the  same  in  the  centre ; 
the  hind  part  of  the  back  greenish-brown,  the  feathers  edged 
with  paler.  The  smaller  wing-coverts  of  a  rich  ultra-marine 
blue,  silkj'^,  with  almost  metallic  lustre.  Alula,  primary  coverts 
and  primary  quills,  grayish-brown,  edged  with  pale  bluish  ; 
outer  secondaries  of  the  same  color,  those  of  the  speculum  duck- 


UPLAND    SHOOTING. 


117 


green,  cljunging  to  blue  and  bronze,  with  a  narrow  line  of  white 
along  their  terminal  margin  ;  the  inner  greenish-blaclc  on  the 
outer  web,  greenish-brown  on  the  inner,  with  a  central  line  and 
narrow  external  margin  of  pale  reddish-buir;  the  more  elongated 
scapulars  similar,  but  some  of  them  margined  with  grecnisli- 
blue.  Secondary  coverts  brown,  with  their  terminal  portion 
white.  Tail  feathers  chocolate-brown,  sligiitly  glossed  with 
green  ;  their  margins  bully.  The  lower  parts  are  pale  reddish- 
orange,  shaded  on  the  breast  with  purplish-red,  and  thickly 
spotted  with  black,  the  number  of  roundish  or  ellii)tical  spots  on 
each  feather  varying  from  ten  to  twenty-five  ;  those  on  the  upper 
and  hind  parts  of  the  sides  running  into  transverse  bars.  Axil- 
lary featliers,  some  of  the  lower  wing-coverts,  and  a  patch  on  the 
side  of  the  rump,  pure  white  ;  lower  tail  coverts  brownish-black. 
"  Length  to  end  of  tail,  IG  inches  ;  to  end  of  claws,  14]  ;  lo 
end  of  wing',  14j;  extent  of  wings,  31|  ;  wing  from  flexure, 
7t2  ;  tail,  .3fV,  bill  along  the  back,  1]  ;  from  frontal  process  to 
tip,  Ij  ;  tarsus,  Ifj;  first  toe  and  claw,  ,1;  middle  toe  and 
claw,  1  If  ;  outer  toe  and  claw,  1 ,%  ;  weight,  12ioz. 

"  Adult  Female. 

"  Bill  greei.ish-dusky.  Iris  hazel.  Feet  of  a  duller  yellow 
than  those  of  female  ;  the  head  and  neck  are  pale,  dull  bull",  lon- 
gitudinally marked  with  brownish-black  lines,  which  are  broader 
and  darker  on  the  top  of  the  head  ;  the  tore-parts  of  the  cheek 
and  the  throat  whitish,  without  markings.  The  upper  parts  are 
dark  brown,  the  feathers  margined  with  brownish-white.  The 
smaller  ving-coverts  colored  as  in  the  male,  but  less  brilliantly  ; 
no  blue  on  the  scapulars,  which  are  also  less  elongated.  On  the 
lower  parts,  the  feathers  are  dusky-brown,  broadly  margined 
with  light  brownish-gray,  of  which  there  is  a  streak  or  spot  in 
the  centre.  The  axillary  feathers,  and  some  of  the  lower  wing- 
coverts  are  white,  but  the  patch  of  that  color,  so  consj)icuous  in 
the  male,  is  wanting. 

"Length  to  end  of  tail,  15  inches;  to  end  of  wings,  14^', 
to  end  of  claws,  15i  ;  extent  of  wings,  24;  wing  from  (lexure, 
7|  ;  tail,  2fV;  bill  along  the  ridge,  2fT;  weight,  lOloz. 


I  1^ 


V 


II 


**1 

i    ; 


Jl8 


FHANK    FORESTEK  S    FIELD   SPOKTS. 


"  The  young  birds  are  similar  to  the  female,  hut  paler,  and 
without  the  s-peculum." — Amluboii's  Birds  of  America, 

♦'  The  Bmm'.-Wixged  Teal  is  the  first  of  its  trihe  that  returns 
to  us  ill  the  autumn  from  its  l;rce(lin(f-])lacc  in  the  North.  They 
are  usually  scon  early  in  Sejitemlier  aloiiff  the  shores  of  the  Dela- 
ware, w  here  they  sit  on  the  mud,  close  to  the  edge  of  the  water, 
so  crowded  together,  that  tlie  gunners  often  kill  great  numbers 
at  a  single  discharge.  When  a  ilock  is  discovered  thus  sitting 
and  sunning  themselves,  the  experienced  gunner  runs  his  bateau 
ashore  at  some  distance  above  or  below  them,  and,  getting  out, 
pushes  her  before  him  over  the  slipjiery  mud,  concealing  him- 
self all  the  while  behind  her.  By  this  method  he  can  sometimes 
approach  within  twenty  yards  of  the  flock,  among  which  he 
generally  makes  great  slaughter.  They  ily  rapidly,  and  when 
they  alight,  drop  down  suddenly,  like  the  Snipe  or  Woodcock, 
among  the  reeds  or  on  the  mud.  They  feed  chiefly  on  vegeta- 
ble food,  and  are  eagerly  fond  of  the  seeds  of  the  reeds  or  wild 
oats.  Their  flesh  is  excellent,  and  after  their  residence  for  a 
short  time  among  the  reeds,  they  become  very  fat.  As  the  first 
frosts  come  on,  they  proceed  to  the  South,  being  a  delicate  bird, 
eery  susceptible  of  cold.  They  abound  in  the  inundated  rice  fieldf. 
of  the  Southern  States,  where  vast  numbers  are  taken  in  traps, 
placed  on  small  dry  eminences,  that  here  and  there  rise  above 
the  water.  These  places  are  strewed  Avith  rice,  and  by  the 
common  contrivance  called  a  figure  four  they  are  caught  alive 
in  hollow  traps.  In  the  month  of  Aj)ril  they  pass  through  Penn- 
sylvania for  the  North,  but  make  little  stay  at  that  season.  1 
have  observed  them  numerous  on  the  Hudson,  opposite  to  the 
Katskill  Mountains.  They  rarely  visit  the  sea  shore." — Wil. 
8Gn''s  Am.  Ornitholoyy. 

The  Blue-Winged  Teal  is  stated  to  be  very  easily  tamed,  and 
very  docile  in  confinement.  It  is  strange  that  this  bird  and  the 
Wood  Duck  are  not  both  domesticated. 


It  11 


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Hlii 

UPLAND    SHOOTINO. 


110 


THE   GREKN-WINGED    TEAL. 
Anas  Crecca,  sJue,  CaroUnensia. 

«  Male,  14?.2l.     Fenuilc,  13','.22i. 

"  Disperseil  tlirouijrhmil  the  country  duiinj;  autumn  and  sprinjj. 
Extremely  ubuudaat  (luiiujj;  winter  in  nil  tlic  Soutliem  States 
and  Texas.  Breeds  sparingly  along  the  Great  Lukes,  and  far 
North. 

"  Adult  Male. 

"  Bill  almost  as  long  as  the  head,  dce[)er  than  broad  at  the 
base,  depressed  toward  the  end,  its  breadth  nearly  eiiual  in  its 
whole  length,  being,  however,  a  little  enlarged  toward  the 
rounded  ti|).  Upper  mandible  with  the  dorsal  line  at  first  slop- 
ing, then  concave,  toward  the  ends  noariy  straight,  the  ridge 
broad  and  tlat  at  the  base,  then  broiully  convex,  the  sides  con- 
vex, the  edges  soft,  with  about  fifly-lise  lamclhu.  Nostrils 
sub-bcisal,  near  tiic  ridge  rather  siuall,  elliptical,  pervious. 
Lower  mandible  ilattish,  witii  the  angle  very  lung  and  rather 
narrow.  The  dorsal  line  very  short,  stiaiirht,  the  sides  [)erpen- 
dicular,  with  about  a  hundred  and  thirty  liuuelliu. 

"  Head  of  moderate  size,  compressed.  Neck  of  moderate 
length,  rather  slender.  Body  full,  depressed.  Wings  rather 
small.  Feet  short,  placed  ratlier  far  back.  Tarsus  short,  com- 
pressed at  its  lower  part,  anteriorly  with  two  series  of  scutella, 
the  rest  covered  with  reticulated  angular  scales.  Toes  scutel 
late  above  ;  first  toe  very  small,  free,  with  a  narrow  membrane 
beneath  ;  third  longest,  fourth  a  little  shorter  ;  the  anterior  toes 
connected  by  reticulated  webs,  of  which  the  outer  is  deejdy  si- 
nuate. Claws  small,  curved,  compressed,  acute ;  the  hind  one 
smaller  anil  more  curved  ;  that  of  the  third  toe  largest,  and  with 
an  inner  sharp  edge. 

"  Plumage  dense,  soft,  blended.  Feathers  of  the  middle  of 
the  head  and  upper  part  of  hind  neck  very  narrow,  elongated, 
with  soft,  filamentous,  disunited  bands  ;  of  the  rest  of  the  head 


!  1  il 


ViO 


FUANK    FOKKSTI.irs   PII.I.D   f^POUTH. 


•J 


(iml  ii|t|)i'r  |)urls  (if  nock  very  short;  of  llio  hack  uml  lower 
pints  in  jfciicial,  broad  and  roundcil.  Wings  of  moderate  length, 
nurrosv,  acute.  Primaries  strong,  curved,  tapering  ;  second 
longest  ;  lirst  scarcely  sliorter;  sei'onihn'ics  hroad,  rather  point- 
ed, the  inner  cdongateil  and  tapering,  as  arc  the  scapuhirs.  Tail 
short,  rounded  and  acuminate,  of  sixteen  acuminate  feathers. 

"  Hill  liiack.  Iris  brown.  Feet  lijj;hl  bluish-";rav.  Head  and 
upper  part  of  the  neck  chestnut-brown  ;  a  broad  band  narrowing 
backward  from  the  eye  dow  n  llu;  back  of  the  neck,  deep,  shin- 
ing green,  edged  with  black  below  ;  under  which  is  a  white  line, 
which,  before  the  eye,  meets  another  that  curves  forward  and 
downward  to  the  angles  of  the  mouth.  Chin  brownish-black,  as 
are  the  feathers  at  the  base  of  the  up|)er  mandible.  Upper  parts 
and  flanks  beautifully  undulate<l  with  narrow,  brownish-black 
and  white  bars  ;  anterior  to  the  wings  is  a  short,  hroad,  trans- 
verse band  of  white.  Wings  brownish-gray;  the  speculum  in 
the  lower  half  violet-black,  the  ujiper  bright  green,  changing  to 
purple,  and  edged  with  black;  behind  margined  witii  white,  be- 
fore with  reddish-white.  Tail  brownish-gray,  the  feathers  mar- 
gined with  paler;  the  ujiper  coverts  brownish-black,  edged 
with  light  yellowish-gray.  Lower  part  of  neck  anteriorly 
barred  as  behind.  Hreast  yellowish-white,  spotted  with  black; 
its  lower  |)art  white.  Abdomen  white,  faintly  barred  with  gray. 
A  patch  of  black  under  the  tail ;  the  lateral  tail-coverts  cream- 
colored,  the  larger  black,  with  broad  Avhitc  margins  and  tips. 

"  Length  to  end  of  tail,  14?  inches;  to  end  of  claws,  L5| ; 
extent  of  w  ings,  24 ;  wing  from  llexure,  7\  ;  tail,  3]  ;  bill 
along  the  back,  ifj  ;  along  the  edge  of  lower  mandible,  1,"^; 
tarsus,  l,r, ;  middle  toe,  1t2  ;  its  claw,  {\j ;  weight,  lOoz. 

"  Adult  fenuile. 

"  The  female  wants  the  elongated  crest,  and  differs  greatly  in 
coloring.  The  head  and  neck  are  streaked  with  dark  brown 
and  light  reil ;  the  foreneck  whitish  ;  the  U})pei  parts  mottled 
with  dark  brown  ;  the  anterior  feathers  barred,  the  posteriors 
margined  with  yellowish-white.  The  wings  are  nearly  as  in 
the  male,  but  the  green  of  the  speculum  is  less  extensive ;  the 


{'  ill 


wing 


Ui'l.AND    SIIOdTINO,  121 

lower  piirt  of  tlio  foreneck  is  tiii;j;e(l  witli  yellowish-reel,  iumI 
mottled  witli  (liuk  brown,  as  are  the  sides;  the  rest  of  the  lower 
narts  white. 

"  Len;,'th  to  end  of  tail,  1.'},' ;  to  end  of  daws,  Ml  ;  extent  of 
ings,  2:2]  ;  wci^'ht,  U)iy/..'"—Aii,liibfm''s  Jiinls  nf  America. 

"  Most  writers  on   the  ornilholo;j;y  of  America  have  n)n>i<l- 
ered  this  hird  an  ii  variety  of  the  Kuropean  Teal.     All,  how- 
ever, u;,Mce  in  their  roi^arding  the  ilillbrence  in  the  variety,  and 
of  its  being  constant  in  the  Northern  specimens.     Thus,   Dr. 
I  atham  mentions  the  white  pectoral  band.      Korstcr  s.iys,  '  This 
is   a  variety  of  the  Teal,  for   it   wants  the  two    white    streaks 
above  und  below  the  eyes  ;  the  lower  one  indeed  is  faintly  ex- 
pressed in  the  male,  which  has  also  a  lunated  bar  of  white  over 
each  shoulder;  this  is  not  to  be  found  in  the  Kuropean  Teal.' 
Pennant  observes,  '  that  it  wants  the  white  line  which  the  lOuro- 
pean  one  has  above  each  eye,  having  only  one  below  ;  has  over 
each   shoulder   a  lunated   bar.'     The  authors   of  the  Norlhcrn 
Zoolofjif  observe,  '  The  only  permanent  diU'erence  that  we  have 
been  able  to  detect,  after  comparing  a  nuinl)er  of  specimens,  is 
that   the   English  Teal  has   a  white   longitudinal  band   on   the 
scapulars,  which   the  other   wants.     All  the  specimens  brought 
home  by  the  Expedition  have  a  broad  transverse  bar  on  the  shoul- 
der, which  does  not  exist  in  the  English  one.'     And  our  author 
in  his  plate,  has  most  distinctly  marked  the  diilerences.     From 
the  testimony  of  all  its  describers,  marking  the  variety  as  perma- 
nent and  similar,  I  am  certainly  inclined   to  consider  this  bird, 
though  nearly  allied,  to  be  distinct ;  and  as  far  as  we  yet  know, 
peculiar  to  the  Northern   parts  of  Aroerica.     I  have  not  been 
able  to  procure  a  specimen  for  immediate  comparison,  and  only 
once  had  an  opportunity  of  slightly  examining  a  Northern  bird. 
From  their  great  similarity  no  observers  have  yet  particularly 
attended  to  the  manners  of  the  American  bird,  or  to  the  mark- 
ings of  the  females.     If  the  above  observations  are  the  means  of 
directing  farther  attention  to  these  points,  they  will  have  per- 


K% 


122 


FRANK    FORESTER  S    FIELD    SPORTS. 


formed  their  intended  end.  I  by  no  means  consider  the  point 
decided. 

"  The  naturalists  of  Europe  have  designated  this  little  Duck 
by  the  name  of  American  Teal,  as  being  a  species  dillerent  from 
their  own.  On  an  examination,  however,  of  the  figure  and  de- 
scription of  the  European  Teal,  by  the  ingenious  and  accurate 
Bewick,  and  comparing  them  with  the  jircseut,  no  differ  once 
whatever  appears  in  the  length,  extent,  color,  or  markings  of 
either  but  what  commonly  occurs  among  individuals  of  any 
other  tribe;  both  undoubtedly  belong  to  one  and  the  samo 
species. 

"  This,  like  the  preceding,  is  a  fresh  water  Duck,  common 
in  our  markets  in  autumn  and  winter,  but  rarely  seen  here  in 
summer.  It  frequents  ponds,  marshes,  and  the  reedy  shores  of 
creeks  and  rivers  ;  is  very  abundant  among  the  rice  plantations 
of  the  Southern  States  ;  Hies  in  small  parties,  and  feeds  at  night  5 
associates  often  with  the  Duck  and  Mallard,  feeding  on  the 
seeds  of  various  kinds  of  grasses  and  water  plants,  and  also  on 
the  tender  leaves  of  vegetables.  Its  flesh  is  accounted  excel- 
U    \" — Wihon^s  Oniithologicaf  Biogniphy. 


I  have  myself  repeatedly  shot  this  bird  on  both  continents,  and 
am  now  thoroughly  convinced  that  the  two  species  are  perma- 
nently and  invariably  distinct.  In  my  first  edition  I  recorded  a 
contrary  opinion,  but  subsequent  examination  of  many  specimens 
has  led  to  a  correcter  judgment.  The  transverse  lunated  bar 
on  the  shoulder  of  the  American  species,  as  exhibited  in  the 
accompanying  cut,  is  the  distinctive  mark,  and  I  am  not  sure 
but  that  our  bird  is  somewhat  the  larger. 


THE    WOOD    DUCK  — SUMMER    DUCK. 

Anas  Sponsa. 

"Male,  20i.2S.     Female,  19^ 

"  Breeds  throughout  the  country  from  Texas  to  the  Colum- 


I  I 


UPLAND    P'TOOTINO. 


1U3 


bia,  and  Eastward  to  Nova  Scotia ;  Fur  Countries.     Accumu- 
lates in  tlie  Southern  Districts  in  winter. 

"Adult  male. 

"Bill  shorter  than  the  head,  deeper  than  hroad  at  the  base, 
depressed  toward  the  end,  slightly  narrowed  toward  the  middle 
of  the  unguis,  the  frontal  angles  prolonged  and  pointed.  Upper 
mandible  with  the  dorsal  line  at  first  sloping,  then  concave, 
along  the  unguis  convex,  the  ridge  broad  and  Hat  at  the  base, 
convex  and  sloping  toward  the  end,  edges  soft  with  about 
twenty-two  lamellic,  unguis  broadly  elliptical,  curved,  rounded. 
Nostrils  sub-basal,  lateral,  ratlier  small,  oval,  pervious.  Lower 
mandible  ilattish,  with  the  angle  very  long  and  rather  narrow, 
the  dorsal  lino  very  short,  convex,  the  sides  convex,  the  edges 
soft  and  rounded,  lamollate  above. 

"  Head  of  moderate  size.  Neck  rather  long  and  slender.  Body 
full  and  depressed.  Wings  rather  small.  Feet  very  short,  strong, 
placed  rather  far  back  ;  tarsus  very  short,  consideralily  depress- 
eil,  at  its  lower  part  anteriorly  with  two  series  of  scutella,  the 
rest  covered  with  reticulated  angular  scales.  Toes  sculellate 
above  ;  first  very  small,  free,  with  a  narrow  membrane  beneath  ; 
third  longest,  fourth  a  little  shorter  ;  claws  small,  curved,  com- 
pressed, acute  ;  the  hind  one  smaller  and  more  curved,  that  of 
the  third  toe  with  an  inner  sharp  edge. 

"  Plumage  dense,  soft,  blended,  generally  glossed.  Feathers 
of  the  middle  of  the  head  and  upper  part  of  the  hind  neck  very 
narrow,  elongated,  and  uncurved ;  of  the  rest  of  the  head  and 
upper  part  of  the  neck  very  short ;  of  the  back  and  lower  parts 
in  general  broad  and  rounded,  excepting  on  the  shoulders  i)efore 
the  wings,  where  they  are  enlarged,  very  broad  and  abrupt. 
Wings  of  moderate  length,  narrow,  acute  ;  primaries  curved, 
strong,  tapering,  first  and  second  longest ;  secondaries  broad  and 
rounded.  Tail  of  moderate  length,  rather  broad,  much  rounded, 
of  sixteen  rounded  feathers. 

"  Upper  mandible  bright  red  at  tlie  base,  yellowish  at  the 
sides  ;  the  intermediate  space  along  the  ridge  and  the  unguis 
black,  as  in   the  lower  mandible  and  its  membrane,      his  and 


I  m 


^   ii     'II 


'M.' 


.24 


FRANMv     FORKSTEU  S    riKI.n    PPOUTS. 


eils^cs  of  oyc-luls  brii^lit  rod.  P'cct  dull  ()i'ana;p;  rlaws  Miick. 
Upper  piirt  of  the  liciul,  and  sj)ace  l)ct\\ocii  tl.e  bill  and  the 
eye,  deep  green  and  liigldy  glossed  ;  helow  the  hitter  space  a 
patch  of  dark  jiurplf,  and  a  larger  one  of  tlio  same  color,  but 
ligliter,  bcliind  tlie  eye  ;  sides  of  the  neck,  its  liind  parts  under 
the  crest  and  tiio  middle  all  round  very  dark  purple.  A  narrow 
line  along  the  base  of  tlio  uj)per  mandible  and  over  the  eye, 
meeting  on  the  occiput,  very  pure  ^vhite,  as  are  some  of  the 
feathers  of  the  crest  ;  another  fron^  behind  the  eye,  meeting 
below  the  occiput,  and  including  several  of  the  lower  elongated 
feathers.  Throat  \'rr  more  tlian  three  inches  pure  white,  with 
a  process  on  each  side  a  little  beyond  the  eye,  and  another 
nearly  half  way  down  the  throat.  Sides  of  the  nock,  and  its 
lower  part  anteriorly,  reddish-purple,  each  feather  on  the  latter 
with  a  triangular  white  tip.  Middle  of  the  neck  behind,  back 
and  rump,  very  dark  reddish-brown,  the  hitter  deeper  and 
tinge<l  with  green  ;  upper  tail  coverts  and  tail  greenish-black; 
some  of  the  lateral  tail  coverts  dull  reddish-purple,  a  few  on 
,  either  side  with  their  fdaments  light  red.  Smaller  wing  coverts, 
alula,  and  primaries  dull  grayish-brown ;  most  of  the  latter 
with  part  of  their  outer  web  grayish-white,  and  tlieir  inner 
toward  the  lip  darker  and  glossed  with  green.  Secondaiy  (]uills 
tip})od  with  white,  the  outer  webs  green,  with  purple  reflec- 
tions; those  of  the  inner  secondaries  and  scapulars  velvet  black, 
their  inner  webs  partially  glossed,  and  changing  to  green.  The 
broad  feathers  anterior  to  the  wings  are  white,  terminated  with 
black  ;  breast  and  abdomen  grayish-white  ;  feathers  under  the 
wings  yellowish-gray,  minutely  undulated  with  black  and  white 
bars ;  lower  wing  coverts  and  axillar  features  white,  barred 
with  grayish-brown  ;  lower  tail  coverts  dull  grayish-brown. 

"  Leiigth,  20^  inches;  to  the  end  of  claws,  17!;  extent  of 
wings,  28;  bill,  1 /L  ;  tarsus,  1,1-;  middle  toe  and  claw,  2,''2; 
wing  from  flexure,  9  ;  tail,  4l. 

'•'  Adult  female. 

"  The  female  is  considerably  smaller,  and  differs  greatly  from 
the  male  in  coloring.     The  feathers  of  the  head  are  not  elon- 


,  h  ll 


UPLAND    S1I00T[NG. 


125 


i'vil'H 


f!;atecl,  but  those  of  the  ui)per  piirt  of  the  neck  are  slightly  so. 
In  other  respects  the  plunuiife  presoiils  notliiiif^  very  remarlviible, 
anil  is  siinilar  to  that  of  the  male,  only  the  feathers  anterior  to 
the   win;i;,  the   hypochomlrial,   the    inner   secondaries    and  the 
rump  feulicrs,  are  not  ei\larged  as  in  him.     Hill  hlackish-hrown; 
feet  dusky,  tinj^ed  with  yellow.      Upper  [)art  of  the  head  dusky, 
glossed  with  green  ;  sides  of  the  head  and  neck,  and   the  hind 
part  of  the  lailer,  light  hrownisli-gray  ;  throat  Avhite,  hut  with- 
out the  lateral   processes  of   the  male.      Forepart  of  the  neck 
below,    and    sides,    light    yellowish-lirown,   mottled   with    dark 
grayish-brown,  as  arc  the  sides  under  the  wings  ;    breast  and 
abdomen  white,  the  former  spotted  with  brown.      Hind  neck, 
back  and   rump,  dark  !)rown,  glossed  with  green  and  purple 
Wings  as  in  the  male,  hut  the  speculum  less,  and  the  seconda- 
ries externally  faint    reddi  di-puri)le ;    the   vo.vct   \i\ark  of   the 
male  diminished  to  a  few  narrow  markings.     Tail  <lark  brown, 
glossed    with    green  ;    lower    tail-coverts    pale   grayish-brown, 
mottled  with  white;  lower  wing-coverts  as  in  the  male. 
"Length,  llW,  inidics. 

"This  beautiful  species  ranges  over  the  whole  extent  of  the 
United  States,  and  I  have  seen  it  in  all  parts  from  Louisiana  to 
the  confmes  of  Maine,  and  from  the  vicinity  of  our  Atlantic 
coasts  as  far  inland  as  my  travels  have  extended.  It  also  occurs 
sparingly  in  the  breeding  season  in  \ova  Scotia,  hut  farther. 
North  I  did  not  observe  it.  Kverywliere  in  this  immense  tract, 
I  have  found  it  an  almost  constant  resident,  for  some  spend  the 
winter  even  in  Massachusetts,  and  fi'i-  up  the  warm  spring 
waters  of  brooks  on  the  .Missouri.  It  conlincs  itseh,  however, 
entirely  to  fresh  water,  preferring  at  all  times  tiie  secluded 
retreats  of  the  ponds,  bayous,  or  creeks,  which  occur  so  pro- 
fusely in  our  woods. 

"  The  llight  of  ibis  species  is  remarkai.le  for  its  sjjced,  and 
for  the  ease  and  elegance  with  which  it  is  performed.  The 
Wood  Duck  i)asses  through  the  woods,  and  even  among  the 
bran(dios  of  trees,  with  as  much  facility  as  the  Passenger  Pigeon  ; 
und  wdiilc  removing  from  some  secluded  haunt  to  its  brecdin?- 


ifHl 


!! 


1€    -:  V' 

-  I. 

I:  ■'■ 

k  1 


)   I  i! 


12(5 


FRANK    FORKSTKU  S    FIKLD    SFOHTS. 


grounds  at  the  approach  of  night,  it  shoots  over  the  trees  like  :i 
meteor,  scarcely  eniitting  any  sound  Aorn  its  wings. 

"  The  Wood  Duck  hrecds  in  the  Middle  Slates  ahout  the 
beginning  of  April,  in  Massachusetts  a  month  later,  and  in  Nova 
Scotia,  or  our  Northern  Lakes,  seldom  before  the  (irst  days  of 
June.  In  Louisiana  and  Kentucky,  where  I  have  had  better 
o[)portunities  of  studying  their  habits  in  this  respect,  they  gene- 
rally pair  about  the  first  of  JNIarch,  sometimes  a  fortnight 
earlier.  I  never  knew  one  of  these  birds  to  form  a  nest  on  the 
ground,  or  on  the  branches  of  a  tree  ;  they  always  seem  to  ])re- 
fer  the  hollow,  broken  portion  of  some  large  nnush.  the  hole  of 
our  large  Woodpecker,  Picus  Principalis,  or  tie  deserted  retreat 
of  the  fox  squirrel  ;  and  I  have  frequently  been  surprised  to  see 
tlicm  go  in  and  out  of  a  hole  of  any  one  of  these^  wlien  tiieir 
liodies  while  on  wing,  seemed  to  be  nearly  half  as  large  again 
as  the  aperture  within  which  they  had  deposited  their  eggs. 
Once  only  I  found  a  nest  with  ten  eggs,  in  the  fissure  of  a  rock, 
on  the  Kentucky  River,  a  few  miles  below  Frankfort.  The 
eggs,  which  are  from  six  to  fifteen,  according  to  the  age  of  the 
bird,  are  placed  on  dry  plants,  feathers,  and  a  scanty  portion 
of  down,  wliich  I  believe  is  mostly  plucked  from  the  breast  of 
the  female.  They  are  perfectly  smooth,  nearly  elliptical,  of  a 
light  color  between  buff  and  pale  green,  two  inches  in  length  by 
one  and  a  half  in  diameter  ;  the  shell  is  about  equal  in  firmness 
to  that  of  the  Mallard's  egg,  and  quite  smooth. 

"  No  sooner  has  the  female  com}>leted  lier  set  of  eggs  than  she 
is  abandoned  by  her  nuite,  who  now  joins  others,  which  form 
themselves  into  considerable  (locks,  and  thus  remain  until  the 
young  are  able  to  ily,  when  old  and  young  of  botii  sexes  come 
together,  an<l  so  remain  until  the  commencement  of  the  next 
breeding  season.  If  tlie  nest  is  placed  immediately  over  the 
water,  the  young,  the  moment  they  are  hatched,  scramble  to 
the  mouth  of  the  hole,  launch  into  the  air  with  their  little  w  ings 
and  feet  spread  out,  and  drop  into  their  favorite  element ;  bu'i 
whenever   their   birth-place  is    at  some   distance  from  it,  the 


i;i 


UPLAND    SHOOTING. 


1^7 


mother  carries  tliem  lo  it,  one  hy  one,  in  iicr  bill,  holding  them 
so  as  not  to  injure  tlieir  yet  tender  frames. 

"  Those  Avhich  breed  in  Maine,  New  Brunswick,  and  Xova 
Scotia,  move  southward  as  soon  as  the  frosts  comtnence,  and 
none  are  icnown  to  spend  the  winter  so  far  North.  I  have  ln-on 
much  surprised  to  find  Wilson  speaking  of  the  Wood  Duciis 
as  a  species  of  which  more  than  five  or  six  individuals  arc 
seldom  seen  tosether.  A  would-hc  naturalist  in  America,  who 
has  had  better  opportunities  of  knowing  its  habits  than  tl,e 
admiicu  author  of  the  '  American  Ornithology,'  rejieats  'Jie 
same  error;  and  I  am  told,  believes  that  all  his  stateniont.-  a:e 
considered  true.  For  my  own  part,  I  have  seen  hundreds  in  a 
single  tlock,  and  have  known  fifteen  to  be  killed  by  a  single 
shot.  They,  however,  raise  oidy  one  brood  in  the  course  of 
the  season,  unless  their  eggs  or  young  are  destroyed.  In  this 
case  the  female  suon  finds  means  of  recalling  her  mate  from  the 
Hock  which  he  has  joined." — Audnboii's  Birds  of  Ameilca. 


The  discrepant  statements,  alluded  to  in  the  last  paragraph, 
concerning  the  gregarious  habits  of  the  Wood  Duck,  may  be 
probably  accounted  for  by  the  difference  of  the  bird's  manners 
in  dillerent  localities.  1  have  never  myself  seen  al)ove  eight  or 
nine  of  these  birds  together,  and  I  presume  tiiat  along  the 
Atlantic  seaboard,  they  are  rarely  see:i  in  greater  numbers. 
On  the  Great  Lakes,  and  in  the  unbounded  solitudes  of  the 
West,  they  doubtless  congregate,  as  do  many  other  species,  in 
vast  fiocks. 

There  is  nothing  which  it  behoves  the  observer  of  natural 
history  more  to  guard  against  than  a  tendency  to  convert  local 
or  accidental  peculiarities  of  individuals  into  settled  habits  of 
species.  All  wild  animals  appear  to  accommodate  themselves 
with  infinite  facility  to  circumstances,  rnd  to  adapt  their  man- 
ners to  the  necessities  of  the  regions  in  which  they  chance  to 
be  thrown,  more  readily  than  is  generally  suspected.  In  one 
place,  a  species  is  solitary  ;  in  another,  gregarious  in  its  cus- 
toms— here  it  is  migratory,  there  domestic  ;  and  to  positive  and 
VOL.   1.  11 


i\''\ 


, 


]2a 


FliANK    forester's    FIELD    .Sl'OHTS. 


<>y 


-f  ,. 


j^cneral  ilicta,  ascribing  tliose  habits  invariably  to  this  or  Ihaf 
s[)Ci'ies,  much  confusion  and  inconvenience  may  be   att-ributed. 

As  an  instance,  I  will  merely  state  iiere,  what  1  shall  go  into 
more  largely  hereafter,  that  the  coinmon  Quail,  Orli/x  Virijinia- 
11(1,  which  is  to  tlie  Westward  distinctly  a  bird  of  passage, 
with  e:isily  defined  habits  of  migration,  eastward  of  the  Dela- 
v.aro  River  is  unquestionably  stationary ;  and  that  from  this 
undoubted  fact,  a  ((ucstion  has  arisen  whether  there  were  not 
two  did'erent  species;  and,  that  hypothesis  proved  untenable. 
a  doubt,  among  the  less  enlightened  of  Eastern  sportsmen,  whe- 
ther the  naturalists  and  travellers  who  have  insisted  on  tlie 
migratory  habits  of  the  Quail,  especiallj-  on  the  Ohio  and  other 
huge  western  rivers,  have  not  ignorantly  or  wilfully  falsified 
the  truth. 

Such  mistakes  should  be  guarded  against  with  care,  and  all 
conflicting  statements,  as  made  by  candid  and  earnest  enquirers, 
regarded  Avilh  the  utmost  liberality  and  allowance ;  which,  I 
regret  to  say,  is  too  seldom  practised  by  naturalists,  who  fre- 
quently appear  to  regard  all  who  differ  from  themselves,  much 
in  the  light  of  enemies,  or  of  heretics,  with  whom  no  terms  are 
to  be  kept. 


The  last  water-fowl,  of  which  I  shall  give  a  minute  descrip- 
tion as  falling  under  the  head  of  Upland  Game,  is  the 


PINTAIL    DUCK, 


&  th  I.  V 


Anas  Acuta — Wilson.  Le  Canard  a  Longne  Queue — Bnssott. 
The  Winter  Duck,  Sprigtuil,  Picjcontail,  vnlgo. 

"  Male  29.30.     Female  221.34. 

"  From   Texas    tiiroughout    the    interior   to   the   Columbia 
River,   and   along   the    Atlantic    coast   to    Maine,    during    the 
winter,   and    early    spring.      Breeds   in    the   Arctic    regions 
Abundant. 


1  M 


UPLAND    SHOOTINO. 


129 


"  Bill  nearly  as  long  as  the  head,  deeper  than  broad  at  the 
base,  depressed  toward  the  end,  the  fiontal  ani^lcs  short  and 
obtuse.  Upper  mandible  with  dorsal  line  at  first  sloping,  then 
concave — toward  the  curved  unguis  nearly  straight ;  the  ridge 
broad  and  flat  at  the  base,  then  hroadly  convex  ;  the  sides 
convex  ;  the  edges  soft,  with  about  fifty  internal  lamell.c ; 
unguis  small,  somewhat  triangular,  curved  ahi  uplly  at  the 
broad  end.  Nostrils  suh-basal,  lateral,  rather  small,  oval, 
pervious.  Lower  mandible  flattish,  its  angle  very  lung  and 
narrow  ;  the  dorsal  line  very  short,  slightly  convex  ;  the  sides 
convex  ;  the  edges  soft,  with  about  fifty  lamelhe. 

"  Head  of  moderate  size,  compressed,  the  forehead  rounded. 
Neck  rather  long  and  slender.  Body  full  and  depressed. 
Wings  rather  small.  Feet  very  short,  placed  rather  far  l)ack ; 
tarsus  very  short,  compressed,  at  its  lower  part  anteriorly  witii 
two  series  of  scutella,  the  rest  covered  with  reticulated  scales. 
Toes  obliquely  scutellate  above;  first  very  small,  free,  with  a 
narrow  meml)ranc  beneath  ;  third  longest;  fourth  a  little  shorter, 
their  connecting  we!)s  entire,  reticulated,  at  the  end  pectinate. 
Claws  small,  curved,  compressed,  acute;  the  hind  one  smaller 
and  more  curved — that  of  the  third  toe  with  an  inner  sharp 
edge. 

"  Plumage  dense,  soft,  blended.  Feathers  of  the  head  and 
neck  short ;  on  the  hind  head  and  neck  clonsrated.  VV^inu;s 
narrow,  of  moderate  length,  acute ;  the  first  quill  longest,  the 
second  nearly  etjual,  the  rest  rapidly  graduated  ;  outer  seconda- 
ries hr'iid  and  rounded  ;  inner  elongated  and  tapering,  as  arc 
their  coverts  and  the  scapulars;  first  ciuill  serrated  on  the  outer 
edme,  soniethin<r  like  that  of  the  Owl.  Tail  of  moderate  lenirth, 
tapering,  of  fourteen  tapering  feathers,  of  which  the  twu  middle 
project  far  beyond  the  rest. 

"  Bill  black;  the  sides  of  the  upper  mandible  light  blue  Iris 
brown.  Feet,  grayisli-blue.  Claws  black.  Head,  throat,  and 
upper  part  of  the  neck  anteriorly  greenish-brown,  faintly  mar- 
gined behind  with  purplish-red.  S.  small  part  of  hind  neck 
dark-green  ;  the  rest,  and  the  upper  parts  in  general,  beautifully 


'i'li 


■i  i-ni 


H   ill 


130 


FRANK    FORESTEH'S    FIELD    Sl'oRTS. 


1  I  ;  i  -i 


ii 


S  :  I! 


ii 


undulatcil  with  very  narrow  bars  of  browni.sh-bhu'k  and  yellow- 
ish-wliite.  Smaller  wing-coverts,  alula  and  primary  (|uills  gray — 
the  lattor  dark  l)r()wn  toward  the  end.  Speculum  ol'  a  coppery- 
red,  changing  to  dull  green  ;  edged  anteriorly  with  light  brown- 
ish-red ;  posteriorly  with  white.  The  inner  secondaries  and  the 
scapulars  black  and  green,  with  broad  gray  margins.  Upper 
tail-coverts  cream-colored,  the  outer  webs  blackish  and  green  ; 
tail  light  gray,  the  middle  feathers  dark  brown,  glossed  with 
green.  On  each  side  of  the  neck  is  an  oblique  band  of  white, 
of  which  color  are  the  under  parts  in  general ;  the  sides,  how- 
ever, are  undulated  like  the  back ;  the  lateral  feathers  of  the 
rump  cream-colored  ;  the  lower  tail-coverts  black  ;  those  at  the 
sides  edged  with  white. 

"  Length  to  the  end  of  tail,  29  inches  ;  extent  of  wings,  36  ; 
l)ill  along  the  back,  2,%  ;  along  the  edge  of  lower  mandible, 
2,^2  ;  tarsus,  1 1^  ;  middle  toe  with  claw,  2y.2  ;  wing  from  flexure, 
n  ;  tail,  5J;  weight  2rbs. 

"  Adult  Female. 

"  The  female,  which  is  much  smaller,  has  the  upper  parts  va- 
riegated with  brownish-black  and  light  yellowish-brown  ;  the 
margin  of  the  feathers  and  a  mark  on  each  side  of  the  shaft  be- 
ing  of  the  latter  color.  The  speculum  is  dusky  green,  margined 
behind  with  white.  The  primary  quills  grayish-brown.  The 
lower  parts  are  of  a  light  brownish-yellow,  the  sides  variegated 
with  brown  ;  the  bill  is  black  ;  the  iris  brown ;  the  feet  light 
bluish-gray. 

"  Length,  22j  mches  ;  extent  of  wings,  34  ;  weight,  lib.  9oz. 

"  The  first  observation  that  I  made,  on  arriving  at  Labrador, 
was  that  no  species  of  Ducks,  excepting  those  which  were  en- 
tirely or  chiefly  oceanic,  seemed  to  resort  to  that  coast ;  and  I 
left  the  country  with  the  same  impression.  We  saw  no  Mal- 
lards, Teals,  Widgeons,  or  Wood  Ducks  there,  nor  any  species 
of  Merganser,  except  the  Red-breasted,  which  is  a  marine  bird. 
The  Pintail  Duck,  then,  was  not  known  in  the  parts  of  that 
country  which  I  visited  ;  nor  was  it  known  in  Newfoundland, 
on  the  Magdeleine  Islands,  or  in  the  British   Province  of  Nova 


Cl-LAND    aaOOTINO. 


131 


Scotia,  at  least  along  its  Atlantic  bouiulnrios.  In  Kentdoky,  and 
the  whole  of  tiie  Western  country,  wiieie  it  is  extrcMiely  abund- 
ant in  early  autunni,  during  winter,  and  uj)  to  a  very  advanced 
period  in  sjiring,  you  meet  with  it  wherever  its  usual  food  is  td 
he  found,  It  follows  the  waters  of  the  Mississippi  to  New  Or- 
leans, is  seen  westward  in  the  prairies  of  Oppelousas,  and 
extends  to  the  eastward  as  far  as  IVIassachuselts,  beyond  which, 
like  the  Mallard,  it  is  very  rarely  seen.  Indeed,  this  species  is 
at  all  times  rare  on  the  seacoast  of  the  Atlantic,  and  must  there- 
fore be  regarded  as  an  inland  bird. 

"  The  Pintail,  which,  in  the  United  States,  is  better  known 
by  the  name  of  Sj)rigtail,  arrives  on  the  Western  waters  early 
in  October,  sometimes  even  in  September ;  the  period  of  its  ar- 
rival depending  on  the  state  of  the  weather,  or  the  appearance 
of  other  species  with  which  it  keeps  company.  Their  plumage 
is  in  fine  condition  when  they  arrive;  their  tail  feathers  are  then 
as  long  as  at  any  other  period,  and  tiie  whole  apparel  of  the 
adult  bird  is  as  perfect  as  in  the  breeding  season. 

"  Whilst  with  us,  the  Pintail  is  found  in  company  with  the 
Baldpate  or  American  Widgeon,  the  Bkie-Winged  Teal,  and  the 
Mallard  ;  more  fre  (uently  on  ponds  than  on  streams  ;  although 
it  sometimes  resorts  to  the  latter,  when  their  shores  are  over- 
hung with  beech-trees,  loaded  with  their  nutritious  fruiis,  of 
which  this  species  is  extremely  fond,  and  in  search  of  whicn 
they  even  ramble  a  short  distance  into  the  woods.  Were  this 
Duck  to  feed  entirely  on  beech  mast,  I  iiave  no  doubt  that  its 
flesh  would  be  excellent.  It  feeds  on  tadpoles  in  spring,  on 
leecnes  in  autumn  ;  while,  during  the  winter,  a  dead  mouse, 
should  it  come  in  its  way,  is  swallowed  with  as  much  avidity  as 
by  a  Mallard.  To  these  articles  of  food  it  adds  insects  of  all 
kinds  ;  and,  in  fact,  is  by  no  means  an  inexpert  fly-catcber. 

"  The  Pintails  are  less  shy  in  the  Western  country  than  most 
species  of  their  family;  and  in  this  resptct  they  resemble  the 
Blue-Winged  Teals  ;  which,  in  fact,  might  be  called  stupid  birds, 
with  as  much  propriety  as  many  others.  They  swim  rather 
deeply,  keep  close  together,  and  raise  the  hind  part  of  the  body 


(ii'i 


\m\ 


I 'J 


1 


M  ':\\ 


! 


132 


RANK    FOUKSTKK  S    FIELD   SJ     11a. 


like  the  Ma' lards.  On  the  water,  on  land,  or  on  tlic  v  injr  .•i- 
verul  miiv  ^'cnerally  be  killed  at  a  shot.  They  are  scarcely  noc- 
turnal, but  rest  much  in  the  middle  of  the  day  ;  baskinj^  in  the 
sunshine  whilst  on  (he  water,  whenever  they  can  indulge  in  this 
luxury. 

"  The  flight  ot"  the  Pintails  is  very  rapid,  gr'^atly  protracted, 
and  almost  noiseless.  They  remain  at  night  in  I'ne  ponds  where 
they  feed  ;  and  runiinue  there  generally,  unless  much  disturbed. 
On  such  occasions  they  keep  in  the  middle  of  the  water,  to 
avoid  their  land  enemies.  In  the  Middle  States  they  arc  iiigbly 
esteemed  for  the  table.  There  they  arrive  later,  and  retire 
sooner  toward  their  breeding  places,  than  in  the  country  west 
of  the  AUegliany  Mountains." — Auduboii's  Birds  of  America, 


:i        I 


This  species,  like  the  last,  is  seldom  found,  in  the  northern 
part  of  the  Middle  and  T^astern  States,  in  such  large  (locks,  as 
it  would  appear  to  use  in  the  West.  It  is  often  found  soli- 
tary ;  and  very  seldom,  in  my  own  experience,  are  more  than 
three  or  four  to  be  found  in  company. 

I  entertain  some  sus|)ici()n  that  the  Pintail  Duck  occasionally 
breeds  in  New  Jersey  and  in  New  York.  In  the  former  State, 
on  one  occasion,  I  shot  an  adult  female  bird,  in  full  plumage,  as 
late  as  the  twelfth  of  l\Iay.  She  rose,  before  a  dead  point  from 
an  old  setter,  out  of  a  thick  tuft  of  alders  on  a  large  marsh  mea- 
dow. I  could  find  no  traces  of  a  nest,  but  can  conceive  no 
object  but  that  of  nidification  which  should  have  induced  the 
bird  to  seek  such  a  haunt.  I  have  several  times  shot  these  birds 
during  spring  Snipe-shooting,  so  late  as  the  end  of  April. 


Till',  Amf.ricax  WiDr.F.ox,  Anas  Americana^  is  occasionally 
found  on  fresh  waters,  especially  to  the  westward  of  the  Ohio  ; 
but  rarely  frequents  rivers,  except  on  their  estuaries  and  sand- 
bars, where  it  associates  more  with  the  Fnlirjiila,  or  Sea  Ducks, 
than  with  its  immediate  congeners.  It  is  found  on  the  Chesa- 
peake with  the  Canvass-back,  and  is  known  as  the  "  Bald 
pate." 


■'  ^;l. 


ri't.AM)    8H00TI\(1. 


jnH 


The  SirovKi.i.EH,  Anns  Cli/prata,  is  rare  in  the  Uniteil 
Slates  ;  tiiuu^li  tiicy  arc  found  in  Louisiana,  Florida,  and  the 
Caroliuas,  iu  winter  ;  hut  are  aliundant  on  the  slicaiiis  of  the 
Rocky  Mountains  and  in  Texas. 

Tin;  Gadwai.!,,  Anas  Strcpera^  is  also  found,  tliouj^h  rarely, 
along  the  maritime  districts  of  the  States.  In  tiie  inteiior,  espe- 
cially on  the  trihutaries  of  the  Ohio,  Missouri,  and  Mississippi, 
it  is  said  tn  ahound.  It  is  of  solitary  liahiis,  rarely  oon^^icgatinj; 
in  [iiv'zo  hodies,  and  is  therefore  not  ;iencra.llv  known  in  the 
United  States. 

Of  the  Sea  Ducks,  the  Golukn-Eyi:,  Fulhjulu  Clitiiijiilu, 
and  t-!ic  Uuitici.-IIeau,  F'ulUjnla  Albvoln,  licUer  known  as  the 
"  Whistler,"  and  the  "  Butter-Bull,"  are  at  times  found  on  the 
fresh  waters  of  the  interior,  hut  not  in  sullicicnt  numher?.  to  ren- 
der it  necessary  to  do  more  than  nauic  thorn,  as  it  would  be  u 
most  liheral  courtesy  wliich  should  extend  to  ihcm  the  style  of 
Upland  game,  which  may  he  held  to  he  compleKnl  with  the 
Duck  last  descrihed. 

The  list  thus  concluded,  the  noiucuclalurc  cslahlished  on 
fixed  gVounds,  and  the  general  hahits  and  territorial  limits  of 
every  kind  of  Upland  game  being  thus  laid  hefore  the  reader, 
1  shall  proceed  to  treat,  each  in  its  several  phue  and  season,  of 
the  Upland  shooting  of  the  Eastern  and  Middle  United  States, 
and  the  Provinces,  in  all  its  various  kinds  and  pliasci  ;  touching 
upon  each  according  to  the  date  of  its  commencement  in  the 
natural  year.* 


•  Since  writing  the  above  pnge,  I  ascertained,  during  two  journeya 
through  Ciinudii.oiie  along  tlie  northern  sliore  of  Luke  Huron  so  tar  as  to 
the  Siiult  St.  Marie,  first,  that  "  Widokon"  are  exceedingly  abundant  on 
tlie  rivers  and  rice  lakes  of  that  region. 

And  seeonilly,  that  on  Lake  Champlain  and  on  tlie  St.  Lawrence,  about 
Prcscott,  the  Golden  Eye  is  the  most  numerous  Duck,  and  that  which 
affords  most  sport  on  those  waters. 

For  the  description  of  an  e.\cellent  Duck,  whicli  I  found  very  abundant 
on  the  upper  lakes,  and  wh'ch  I  believe  to  be  a  nondescript,  though  the 
point  is  not  quite  decided,  sec  Vol.  II,  Appendix  F. 


i    . 

1: 

,       1 

t 

J  J 


*.    J**>-  •  ••/; 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


1.0 


I.I 


*^  Uii   12.2 
^   U&    12.0 


m 


■ 

1.25    II  1.4    III  1.6 

^ 

6"     

► 

Hiotographic 

Sciences 

Corporation 


23  WIST  MAIN  STRUT 

WnSTIR,N.Y.  14910 

(71«)  •72-4903 


^  t^*^ 

^^V^ 
"'4^ 


'  >.^ 


^ 


4^ 


0 


134 


FUANK    FOUESTEB's    FIELD    SPORTS. 


THE  UPLAND  SHOOTING 


OF    THE 


EASTERN   AND   MIDDLE   STATES,  AND   OF  THE 
BRITISH  PROVINCES. 


PLAND  SHOOTING,  which, 
with  the  interval  of  about  three 
montlis  in  ordinary  seasons,  may 
be  enjoyed  in  some  form  or  other 
during  the  whole  year,  in  the 
Eastern  and  Middle  States,  may 
be  divided  with  propriety  into 
four  difl'erent  heads,  commencing 
with  the  opening  of  spring,  and  terminating  only  with  the  termi- 
nation of  the  year. 

These  heads  are  "  Spring  Snipe  Shooting ;"  "  Summer  Cock 
Shooting;"  " Upland  Plover  Shooting;"  and  "  Autunm  Shoot- 
ing," which  might  be  called  "  general  shooting,"  inasmuch  as  in 
the  course  of  a  good  day's  sport,  it  is  by  no  means  unusual  to 
bring  to  bag  almost  every  variety  of  game  which  I  have  enume- 
rated above,  the  Grouse  and  the  Northern  Hare  alone  excepted. 
A  separate  head  must  be  given  to  Grouse  shooting, — by  a\  hich 
I  mean  Pinnated  Grouse ;  since  they  are  so  nearly  extinct  in 
those  districts  in  which  alone  Upland  Shooting  is  prri  "tised  sci- 
entifically and  as  a  sport,  that  they  are  rarely,  I  might  say  never 
met  with,  by  those  in  pursuit  of  other  game. 

It  will  be  observed  that  I  am  now  speaking  of  Upland  shoot- 
ing, as  it  is  ;  botli  established  by  law,  and  habitually  practiced, 


UPLAND   SHOOTINO. 


135 


liMIM! 


in  those  of  the  States  in  which  only  game  is  generally  protected 
by  statute  ;  not  as  I  think  it  should  be.  For  it  is  my  settled  opi- 
nion that  Spring  Snipe  shooting  and  Summer  Cock  shooting  are 
both  abominations  ;  and  that  both  humanity  and  policy  forbid  the 
slaughter  of  these  birds  of  passage,  until  they  have  finished  rear- 
ing their  young,  and  until  those  young  have  attained  their  full 
growth.  On  this  topic  I  shall  enlarge  hereafter,  under  the  head 
of  "  Game  Preservation  ;"  though  I  have  but  slight  hopes  that 
any  steps  will  be  taken,  which  can  avail  to  preserve  all  the 
winged  game  of  America  from  speedy  extermination.  In  like 
manner,  I  shall  defer  the  observations,  which  I  propose  to  make 
on  the  species,  management,  diseases,  etc.,  of  Sporting  Dogs,  and 
and  on  the  qualities  and  management  of  the  Fowlingpiece,  and 
the  art  of  shooting  on  the  Wing,  until  1  have  got  through  what  I 
have  to  say  on  Upland  shooting  generally. 

And  here  I  will  remark,  once  for  all,  in  reply  to  a  question 
which  has  already  been  propounded  to  me  several  times,  since  it 
has  transpired  that  I  am  engaged  on  this  work — "  Whether  any 
portion  of  it  will  be  set  apart  esj)ecially  for  the  instruction  of 
young  sportsmen  .'" — I  am  aware  of  nothing  in  the  science 
of  woodcraft  more  appropriate  to  be  learned  by  the  beginner, 
than  another.  There  is  no  patent  by  which  skill  may  be  ac- 
quired, no  formula  to  be  learned,  after  which  all  is  plain  and 
easy  sailing.  So  soon  as  any  person  has  acquired  the  powei 
of  bringing  up  his  gun  correctly  on  an  object,  and  firing  it  at 
once  without  dwelling  on  his  aim,  he  is  fit  to  take  the  field ; 
and  after  this,  all  the  dilference  between  the  old  and  young,  the 
good  and  bad,  sportsman,  natural  (jualifications  which  cannot  be 
acquired  alone  excepted,  is  the  amount  of  practice,  and  the  extent 
of  observation.  He  who  most  thoroughly  understands  the  natural 
history,  the  instincts  and  the  habits,  both  of  the  animals  which  he 
pursues  and  the  animals  which  he  uses  as  assistants  in  pursuit, 
will  necessarily  be  tlie  best  sportsman ;  and  all  that  the  best  sport- 
ing writer  can  accomplish  is  to  give  a  small  number  of  facts  on 
which  to  work  ;  and  so  to  throw  out  many  suggestions,  which 
shall  lead  the  sportsman  into  the  habit  of  thinking  for  himself, 


?l 


;|l 


.136 


FRANK    FORESTEll  S   FIELD    SPORTS. 


and  seeing  with  his  own  eyes ;  and  above  all,  cause  him  to 
avoid  regarding  the  smallest  peculiarity  he  may  observe  in  the 
field  of  nature  unworthy  of  consideration. 

With  regard  to  the  art  of  shooting,  a  very  few  instructions  only 
can  be  given,  and  they  can  do  but  little  toward  the  formation  of  a 
shot.  Practice  alone  can  make  a  good  shot,  even  of  one  en- 
dowed with  the  greatest  natural  aptitude  ;  and,  without  the 
gift  of  natural  aptitude,  no  one  can  ever  hope  to  be  a  crack 
shot  on  the  wing.  No  one,  however,  who  desires  it,  need  des 
pair  of  becoming,  in  something  more  than  a  moderate  degree, 
a  proficient  in  this  beautiful  art,  since  the  introduction  of  the 
percussion  system ;  which  has  so  greatly  simplified  the  art, 
and  diminished  the  difficulty  of  shooting  on  the  wing,  that  it 
is  a  current  remark  now-a-days  that,  "a  bad  shot  in  1848 
is  a  rarer  thing  to  meet  than  a  good  one  wiis  in  1800." 

The  same  thing  is  in  a  less  degree  the  case  with  the  man- 
agement of  dogs  in  the  field;  there  are,  it  is  true,  general,  aye, 
and  particular  rules,  which  may  be  laid  down  for  the  guidance 
of  the  hunter ;  which  rules,  if  strenuously  put  in  practice,  shall 
be  in  themselves  all  sufficient.  But  to  this  end  practice  is 
essential — practice  in  learning  when  and  how  each  rule  is  to 
be  put  in  force  ;  practice  in  controlling  impatience,  in  combat- 
ing temper,  in  acquiring  perfect  coolness  and  complete  self- 
command.  No  man  may  hope,  let  him  know  how  to  do  so 
never  so  well,  to  govern  his  dogs,  until  he  has  learned  first 
to  govern  himself.  If  I  were  asked  to  state  what  were  the 
three  things  most  necessary  to  the  formation  of  the  perfect 
sportsman,  I  think  I  should  parody  the  reply  of  the  great 
Athenian  rhetorician,  and  reply,  "  Practice  !  practice  !  practice  I" 

But  of  these  things  severally  in  their  places :  and  now  to 
the  field  for  spring  Snipe-shooting. 


'W'^'^ 


f\  y.X: 


it^Xtif' 


*■•■■  .    j«"f  it*. 


,:l  i;, 


/•••'a'.iL.-!! 


:J■^•.^^^l 


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■•3^■^-::^' 


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.Ii-,,i}5i. 


UPLAND    8)I00TINn. 


SPRING  SNIPE-SHOOTING. 


\m 


Amkuicax  Smpi:, —  Scolopax  Wihonii, — which  is  commonly 
known  in  this  country  as  tl;c  KnLjIish  Snipe,  but  which  is 
undoubtedly  a  distinct  species,  winters,  as  we  have  seen,  in  the 
Southern  States,  and  yet  southward  of  the  m(i>;t  southern  ;  being 
rarely  found  in  the  winter  northward,  or  i;  !io  summer  south- 
ward, of  the  Carolinas. 

The  great  nfultitude  breed  far  to  the  northward,  not  only  of 
the  United  States,  but  of  the  British  Provinces,  in  the  vast  marshy 
tracts  which  extend  inland  nearly  to  tlie  Arctic  Ocean.  Many, 
however,  make  their  nests  and  rear  their  young  in  the  secluded 
morasses  of  Maine,  Nova  Scotia,  and  New  Brunswick ;  and  a 
few  pairs,  here  and  there  throughout  the  Eastern  and  Middle 
States,  becom.ing  less  frequent  as  they  advance  toward  the  South, 
so  far  probably  as  the  north  of  Pennsylvania. 

In  Western  Canada,  in  the  neighborhood  of  Amherstberg,  they 
are  likewise  found  during  the  breeding  seas(jn,  and  probably  on 
the  southern  verge  of  the  Great  Lakes  likewise. 

They  are,  however,  with  us,  from  New  Jersey  eastward, 
essentially  a  spring  and  autumn  passing  visitant ;  and  this  is  their 
character  so  far  northward  as  Quebec.     In  New  Brunswick  and 


ill 


138 


FUANK  fck::steu's  field  SrORTS. 


Nova  Sctitia  they  may  perhaps  he  regurdccl  as  a  sumiiier  resident  | 
though  I  am  persuaded  that  their  numbers,  even  there,  in  the 
spring  and  autumn,  Avill  be  found  vastly  to  exceed  the  tale  of 
those  which  remain  and  rear  their  young.  Tluougliout  the 
Southern  and  Western  country  they  are,  on  the  contrary,  winter 
residents. 

Now  the  shooting  of  these  birds  in  spring,  as  they  are  either 
pairing  here  preparatory  to  breeding,  or  moving  northward  pre- 
paratory to  pairing,  or  even  actually  breeding — as  is  the  case 
when  they  are  shot  in  May — is  precisely  what  it  would  be  to 
shoot  Woodcock  in  February,  March,  and  April,  or  Quail  so  late 
as  to  the  middle  of  May  ;  the  destruction  of  the  breeders,  and  con- 
sequent diminution  of  the  number  of  the  next  year's  young,  being 
the  same  in  both  cases.  The  American  Snipe  lays  four  eggs ; 
the  death,  therefore,  of  every  Snijje  during  spring  shooting  is 
erjuivalent  to  the  death  of  five  of  these  beautiful  and  sporting 
little  birds. 

This,  one  would  suppose,  would  be  conclusive  against  the 
practice ;  but  if  he  venture  to  break  ground  in  favor  of  the  abo 
lition  by  law  of  this  unfair,  and  I  must  think,  unsportsmanlike 
practice,  he  is  met  and  silenced  by  some  such  exquisite  reason  as 
this — that  if  spring  Snipe-shooting  were  prohibited,  we  should 
have  no  spring  sliooting  at  all ;  and  the  same  extjuisite  reason  is 
adduced  against  the  only  step  which  can  save  the  Woodcock 
from  extermination,  I  mean  the  abolition  of  summer  cock- 
shooting. 

To  return,  however,  to  spring  Snipe-shooting,  as  it  is. 

So  soon  as  the  spring  is  fairly  broken,  and  the  frost — to  use 
a  common  phrase — entirely  out  of  the  ground,  the  Snipe 
begins  to  appear  upon  our  meadows.  This  breaking  of  the 
spring,  and  disappearance  of  the  subterranean  frost  is,  as  is  well 
known,  very  uncertain  as  regards  tlie  time  of  its  occurrence. 
Sometimes,  particularly  when  the  winter  has  been  continuous  and 
severe,  spring  comes  upon  us  suddenly  and  remains  permanent — 
with  no  cold  squalls  and  nipping  frosts  intermediate — increasing 
still  into  perfect  summer.     At  other  times,  most  frequently  when 


VVLAND  SWOOTINH. 

the  winter  has  1  ^^^ 

;-.i..'  of  .^."u:;;:;™:;::^« -'I  ^.i-i.  -""  -..en .,. 

'I'e  first  of  ,!,„,  ,„„,„|,^  '"""  ""!>  snow  ,n  Pl.iludelphia  on 

■i.et!i:« '™'„°'o„g  t:!:;;'';!*  ""■.."'•"•"s. "-  s„ipo  „o,„p„,, 

"""  '->• 1  <lofer  °l,eid    ;;■!";,"■»  ""S.  S-v  ver/J 

«™  and  dr,.  „,  ,„  ,,„j„,.  „,^7  ™  "  ">=  «e«ll.er  becomes  .,„ 

Jork  into  o™„„e  oo.,,!,;,  „  Zlm  IT  ',  *°™  '''"■'■  ^'- 
Jeep  snow,  and,  « iU.in  a  week  aftl  /'I' '"  "  ^'"«''' "^ 
If*  of  June,  s|,o,  Snipe  Tl   1"''  "'"'  ""'"=•''  "P  to  Ihe 

Northward,  with  n^  tarryil  °         "^^'  '''^^'  ^"'^  '^en  off  again 

t  or  several  years,  latterly,  snrin.  «  •       , 
;nd./rerent,  that  few  shorts  Ji  hSJ^;  "'''"»  ""''  ^««"  - 
kets  have  been  badly  supplied  "^  '*'  '^"^  '^"^^  ^^^^  '"ar- 

The  arrival,  howevpr  ne  n  c  ■ 
ern  New  York  theTeTiil  LdT  '"  "^^^  '''''y~'^  «-^'^- 
tenth  of  March,  which  i  hf  ea  liesTdT "'-^''^^'^^  ^^^  *'- 
«een  them  plentiful  on  the  UnT  f  "  ''  ^^'""^'^  ^  '^"^^  ever 
^^'•'•'-  If  they  have  not  tv^^.  T  1T'  '^  '^^  '^^'^^'^  ^f 
^«y  generally  be  taken  for  .r!nted  llT  ""'  ^he.e  dates,  it 
Pnng  Snipe-shooting.  ''       ^^'  *^^'  ^''^  y^'^''  will  have  „« 

Jt  must  be  observe°d  thit  nhf  •  • 

"■e  Sfound,  be  „„,e  „',  iJ^Z^^  Z"'  '■'"''''  ""'"edialel/on 
"«  "i'ove  once,  i„  fi.^  ZyZ'',fjl°'  '7^""''  ^'"^  "  » 
8'ay  under  snob  favorable  oircjLT'  ^^'^  '"'*  "">«  "»  ""d 
'!  -  '--d,  ,0  .be  ground        dtTenT  ~"  "''"  '°  =''"»■  - 

"^ys  and  passuig  onward, 


nil 


A     . 


('  ! 


140 


FRANK    FORESTKll's   FIELD   Sl'DllTS. 


it  is  very  possililc  tliiit  nstriin;;nr,  coming'  from  a  flistimce  to  shoot, 
will  fiiid  the  inc:i(li)\vs  wliich  were  yeslenlay  alive  with  Siiij)e, 
entirely  dcserteJ,  and  vice  versa. 

■  Still  there  are  signs  and  tokens  hoth  of  the  weather  and  of  the 
animal  creation — temperatures  of  the  former  and  coincidences  of 
the  la' tor — by  which  the  observant  s|)()rt.sman  may  come  at  con- 
clusions, even  at  a  distance  from  his  ground,  and  sebloni  errone- 
ously, concerning  the  arrival  and  sojourn  of  Snipe. 

And  again,  the  birds  have  habits  and  haunts,  during  various 
aspects  and  sudden  changes  of  weather,  a  thorough  knowlctjge  of 
which  will  enable  one  sportsman  to  fill  his  hag,  while  another  on 
the  same  ground  shall  make  up  his  mind  in  despair,  that  there  are 
no  Snipe  on  the  meadows. 

There  is  no  bird  whose  habits  I  have  sludicd  more  closely  than 
those  of  the  Snipe,  more  esj)ecially  during  his  vernal  visit  to  our 
part  of  the  country,  for  which  iny  residence,  nearly  adjoining  the 
very  finest  Sni])e-ground,  as  I  believe  it  even  ycl  to  be,  in  the  world, 
has  given  me  great  facilities;  and  I  have  it  in  my  power  to  point 
out  one  or  two  peculiarities — tending,  by  the  way,  more  com- 
pletely to  distinguish  it  from  the  European  species — which  have 
escaped  the  observation  of  our  great  American  naturalists,  Wilson 
and  Audubon. 

I  have,  moreover,  shot  them  from  Delaware  southward,  t(> 
Quebec,  in  the  north  ;  and  from  the  Niagara  River  to  the  coun 
try  about  the  Penobscot ;  so  that  I  have  not  been  without  opi)or 
tunity  of  becoming  acquainted  in  some  degree  with  their  habits, 
throughout  the  whole  geographical  area  of  their  spring  and 
autumn  migration ;  and  here  I  would  state,  though  with  nmch 
deference,  as  becomes  one  did'ering  from  so  high  an  authority, 
that  neither  in  this  nor  in  any  other  of  our  migratory  birds  of 
Game  is  there  so  much  dillbrence  with  regard  to  the  time  of  their 
arrival  and  departure  within  the  limits  I  have  named,  as  Mr. 
Audubon  would  make. 

That  eloquent  writer  and  accurate  observer,  states  the  arrival 
of  this  bird  to  he  a  month  later,  varying  with  the  season,  in 
Maine  than  in  Pennsylvania ;   and  ten  days  later  yet  in  Nova 


UPLAND  SHOOTINO. 


141 


I 


Scotia.  Ntiw  I  nm  sntisficd  that,  iihIpss  wlicii  tlic  viiitpr  is  cx- 
tromoly  slmrl  anil  sprini;  iiniKiialiy  Avariii  and  early  to  tlic  West- 
ward, tills  (liscrcpaiicy  Is  u;ioally  ovorralod. 

'I'lio  ni'crayc  (•ominciicemrnt  of  Siil|)e-sliooting,  even  in  Dcla- 
Avarc,  is  not  earlier,  I  am  convinced,  tlinn  tlic  first  of  April ;  and, 
except  In  unconnnonly  early  seasons,  tliey  appear  almost  slinulla- 
iieotisly  In  New  Jersey  and  New  Yorlc.  Karly  in  April,  I  have 
shot  tlioso  hirds  In  ahundam-e  close  to  the  Falls  of  Nia;^ara  ;  early 
in  April  1  have  shot  them  in  Maine;  and  at  the  end  of  that  same 
month,  I  have  shot  them  on  the  upland  pastures  around  Quehec. 

On  avera^fc  seasons,  that  is  to  say  seasons  in  which  the  s|)rln;; 
is  everywhere  late  and  hackward,  I  have  found  hy  my  own  oh- 
servatlon,  that  the  arrival  hoth  of  the  Woodcock  and  of  the  Snipe 
\i  nearly  simultaneous,  from  Pennsylvania  to  Maine,  and  I  believe 
on  emiulry  such  will  prove  to  be  the  case. 

This  Is,  however,  except  as  a  matter  of  curiosity,  tendln;^  to 
throw  li!j;lil  on  tlio  brccdin'^  se.isons  of  oiu'  bird  In  various  |)Iacos, 
and  so  to  enable  us  to  legislate  with  most  advantage  for  his  pre- 
Bei-vation,  a  matter  of  sm;ill  importance  ;  for,  from  the  moment 
of  his  arrival  in  each  several  locality,  until  that  of  liis  departure, 
ho  is  incessantly  persocutcd  and  pursued  ;  and,  as  the  causes  of 
his  arrival  aro  the  same  in  all  places,  so  will,  I  a2)pfeliend,  he  the 
signs  of  his  coming  also. 

The  next  observation  that  I  would  make  in  this  place,  is  to 

guard  the  sportsman,  in  the  United  States  and  Canada,  from 

placing  tliL-  slightust  reliance  on  the  maxims,  advice  nr  opinions 

promulgated,  (.'Von  in  the  best  sporting  books  published  in  Eng- 

ind,  ( onccriiiiig  the  Snipe,  or  its  congeiior  the  Woodcock. 

The  birds  aro  in  every  respect  diilbicnt  from  the  European 
species,  as  to  their  hahits,  haunts  and  seasons;  and  one  point  of 
difference  alone  is  sufficient  to  render  all  that  is  laid  down  with 
regard  to  the  manner  of  hunting  them  there,  entirely  useless 
here.  Thcie  they  are  winter,  here  more  or  less  summer,  birds  of 
passage;  so  that  the  localities  which  they  freipicnt  in  the  two 
hemispheres  are  of  course  nearly  opposite. 

Not  an  English  hook  but  will  tell  you,  and  tell  you  tiiily,  as 


if 
I 

i   , 


148 


FRANK    FORESTER  S    FIELD    SPORTS. 


regards  the  English  Snipo,  tliat  the  most  favorable  wealh.er  foi 
the  sport  is  dark,  blowing,  drizzling  days — the  very  worst  con- 
rcivablc  for  our  bird  ;  which  is  apt  to  be  as  wild  as  a  Hawk  in 
windy  weather,  while  it  will  sometimes  lie  till  it  is  difficult  to 
kick  it  up,  on  bright,  warm,  suimy  days,  with  the  wind  southerly. 
But  of  this  anon. 

In  the  first  place,  observe,  as  regards  the  arrival  of  Snipe  on 
the  meadows,  that  it  mattei-s  not  how  fair  and  mild  and  warm 
tlie  weather  may  be,  or  may  have  been  for  many  days,  overhcjid, 
not  a  bird  will  be  found  until  the  subterranean  frost  and  ice  have 
been  entirely  dissijiated  ;  which  is  rarely  the  case  until  nfter  a 
three  days'  storm  of  rain,  with  a  stiff  easterly  blow,  succeeded  l)y 
joft,  spring-like  weather. 

It  must  here  be  remarked  that,  in  morasses  and  bog  meadows, 
whether  fresh  or  salt,  the  underground  frost  lasts  much  longer 
unthawed  than  it  does  on  the  uplands.  In  one  instance,  I  re- 
member finding  all  the  meadows  as  hard  as  ice  below  some  six 
inches  of  soft  mud,  when  the  frost  had  disappeared  for  many 
days  on  the  uplands,  and  when  the  progress  of  spring  was  evident 
in  the  bursting  buds  and  springing  grass.  Of  course  not  a  bird 
was  '-'''  be  found. 

The  first  of  the  winged  harbingers  of  spring  is  the  beautiful 
little  Blue-Bird ;  and  so  soon  as  ho  has  taken  up  his  residence 
with  us,  and  commenced  cleaning  out  his  accustomed  box,  or  pre- 
paring materials  for  his  nest  in  the  hole  of  a  decayed  apple-tree, 
we  may  be  sure  that  the  Snipe  is  not  far  distant.  When  the 
buds  of  the  willow  trees  display  their  yellowish  verdure,  and  the 
chiiping  croak  of  the  frogs  rises  li'om  every  swampy  pond,  we 
may  feel  confident  that  he  is  to  be  found  on  the  meadows  ;  but 
not  until  the  Shad  is  abundant  at  the  mouths  of  our  rivers,  is  the 
Snipe  plentiful  on  the  inland  morasses. 

On  his  first  arrival,  he  generally  hangs  for  two  or  three  days 
in  small  whisps,  or,  oftcner  yet,  scattered  individually,  along  the 
salt  meadows  on  the  coast,  especially  in  places  where  fresh 
springs  boil  up  from  the  ground,  or  spring-brooks  trickle  down 
from  the  upland. 


UPLAND   SHOOTING. 


143 


At  such  times,  a  few  straggling  birds  may  be  picked  up  on 
the  south  side  ol'  Long  Islnnd,  where  the  trout-streams,  below 
tlie  pond-dams,  ovimAow  tlie  salt  meadows,  before  a  solitary 
Snipe  has  appeared  inland.  Then  the  salt  marshes  about  the 
mouths  of  the  Raritan,  the  Hackcnsac,  and  the  Passaic,  attract 
them  in  turn  for  a  few  days  ;  after  which  they  gradually  ascend 
the  courses  of  those  streams  to  the  great  tracts  of  morass  and 
bog-meadow,  which  are  spread  out  for  lengues,  the  very  Para- 
dise of  the  Snipe-shooter,  especially  about  the  last-named  river. 

Here,  if  the  weather  is  favorable  and  settled,  they  remain  for 
many  weeks  ;  and  may  be  pursued  with  much  success  and  sport, 
by  the  skilful  sportsman,  whatever  may  be  the  nature  of  the  day, 
unless  it  has  been  2)recedod  by  a  very  sharj)  frost. 

The  most  favorable  time  is,  undoubtedly,  the  first  fine  warm 
day  after  a  long,  easterly  rain-storm  ;  and,  so  thoroughly  am  I 
convinced  of  this  fact,  that  for  many  seasons,  while  resident  in 
New  York,  it  was  my  habit  to  order  my  horses,  and  set  out  on 
the  third  day  of  a  north-eastern  storm,  if  the  sky  showed  the 
slightest  prospect  of  clearing,  before  the  rain  had  in  the  least 
abated.  It  has  more  than  once  happened  to  me,  thus  setting  off 
late  in  tlie  evening,  while  it  was  jet  raining,  to  see  the  sky  gra- 
dually clear  up,  and  to  hear  the  shrill  squeak  of  the  Snijje  travel- 
ling overhead  faster  than  myself,  though  in  the  same  direction, 
before  reaching  my  shooting-ground,  scarce  twenty  miles  distant ; 
and  I  have  been  amply  rewarded  for  my  trouble  by  an  excellent 
and  undisturbed  day's  sport,  over  meadows  well  stocked  with 
birds,  and  as  yet  virgin  of  gunners. 

In  such  cases,  it  will  often,  however,  happen  that  the  weather 
on  the  one  or  more  days  which  can  be  spared  for  shooting,  proves 
wild,  windy  and  unfavoriible  ;  yet  the  sportsman  who  has  trav- 
elled from  a  distance  must  take  it  as  he  finds  it — if  he  reside  on 
the  spot  he  can,  and  of  course  will,  pick  his  own  days  ;  which,  if 
he  be  wise,  will  be  those  soft,  moist,  silvery  mornings,  which  so 
often  follow  slight  hoar-frosts,  when  the  heaven  is  covered  with 
the  thinnest  filmy  haze,  through  which  the  sunbeams  are  poured 
down  warm  but  mellow,  and  when  there  is  just  enough  of  low 
voii.  I.  12 


144 


FRANK   FORESTER  S   FIELD   SPORTS. 


southerly  wind  abroad  to  dry  the  herbage  and  to  give  the  dogs  a 
chance  of  scenting  their  game. 

As  the  stranger  cannot  thus  choose,  it  is  most  important  that 
he  should  know  how  to  make  the  best  of  bad  circumstances  ;  for 
even  in  the  worst  weather,  if  there  be  birds  at  all  upon  his  range, 
knowing  his  ground  and  the  habits  of  his  bird,  he  will  be  able, 
nine  times  out  often,  to  make  a  fair  day's  work. 

I  once  shot  three  successive  days  over  the  Long  Meadow, 
Lewises,  the  Troy  and  Parsippany  Meadows,  from  Pine  Brook, 
with  a  friend,  in  the  very  worst  weather  I  ever  saw  for  Snipe- 
shooting — dry,  keen,  cutting  north-easters,  wjin  the  dust  flying 
one  half  hour,  and  the  sun  shming  clear  but  cold,  and  hailstones 
pelting  down  the  next.  The  birds  were,  of  c.iurse,  as  wild  as 
can  be  imagined  ;  drumming  high  up  in  the  air,  and  performing 
all  kinds  of  unusual  antics  ;  yet,  by  dint  of  good  dogs,  desperate 
fagging,  and  a  perfect  knowledge  of  our  ground,  we  picked  up 
sixty-two  couple  of  Snipe,  besides  a  few  Duck,  in  the  course 
of  three  days. 

No  great  work, it  is  true,  nor  much  to  boast  of;  but,  mark  me 
now — during  those  same  three  days,  two  other  gentlemen,  as  good 
shots  as  ourselves,  perhaps  better,  beat  the  same  meadows,  put- 
ting up  at  the  rival  tavern,  and  hunting  so  exactly  the  same  line 
of  country  with  ourselves,  that  we  met  and  conversed  with  them 
more  than  once  each  day.  These  gentlemen  bagged,  in  all- 
eleven  Snipe  and  a  Sandpiper ;  and  that  for  the  simplest  reason 
imaginable — they  did  not  know  where  to  look  for  Snipe  in  wild 
weather,  while  we  did. 

It  i.s,  of  course,  unnecessary  to  tell  any  person  acquainted  with 
the  first  elements  of  Shooting,  that  the  Snipe  feeds,  not  on  suc- 
tion, but  on  small  worms  and  other  insects,  which  he  collects  by 
boring  in  moist  earth  with  his  long  sensitive  bill.  His  favorite 
feeding-grounds  are,  therefore,  soft,  sloppy  tracts,  where  the  soil 
is  rich  vegetable  loam,  or  bog-earth,  interspersed  with  springs, 
and  sparsely  covered  with  low,  succulent  grasses  ; — earth,  from 
the  surface  of  which  the  waters  have  recently  subsided,  and  on 
which  a  muddy,  rust-colored  scum  has  been  deposited,  on  their 


UPLAND  SHOOTING. 

wll  rarely  lie,  ,„  „  ,„  affo     '«,,,"  '""""'^  ™'"=''.  "'e^ 

.     "■•  young  gr^  t^  «c,^XlT    r  '■"  ""  •"■™. » l-» 

Snrpe  eame  and  fey.  "I""""'"  '"'I'.ls  have  rendered  the 

'o'he  bird,,  into  »hieh°.l™     *"'""«  f «.»«■"*«  IheUer 
"'"  «talfe  in  ordinary  ,vea,he^  I'   ™  '  ""'I"""'"'"  "'"■='■  «>ay 

7"  in  such  MealLerCtTr  .r"""'  """ '•""-1"o„„y  C^' 
places,  indeed,  in  M-hieh  no  b„„       r™  '"  '"'y  **™l  place, 

""M  lead  „,,',„  seek  he!      'd'i"/  ""'" '^"•y.  »•".  1  C' 

'-  .el.  us  .bey  are  never  .^  Cl':'"""'  "'  -'■-"  '"«  «u...ori.' 

Dut,  to  proceed  in  order-  ll,o  <j,  • '      , 
down  wind,  the  resistance  If  1 ,     ""  "'""'  """'""I  «"„  rises 
»aWe  hin,  ,o  je.  „„der  4    o„l^Tr'- '"  '''  "^•''-■>-  " 
f«  the  most  par,  abon,  brei-hW  L  T  ""'"'  '''"'''  '">  does 
tofore  he  gathers  wing,  and  Ihen  dart  ,     "*"  ""  "'"  '"'  »  ''"><>. 
•f  no.,  across  wind,  .."k  and  Tack  ti  ^  7  "'""•  '" ""'"'"'''^ 
-<ha.,g..ag  flight,  „,„.„,  rcSThe   "   'T  '""'"■■'>•'  »"<• 
•"S'nner.    I  think,  h„w,        „,  Jf"  """•  PO^'^'ling  objects  to  . 
7^ons,  they  .re  as  easy  i    "d  0.7°"  """'"""^  '"  "-ir 
Andubon  states,  i„  allusion  to    P  °'  "">'  """  "'o'-    Mr 

«"i|'e.  .-.a.  be  ^ho  can  t  i  .yrr""  """-".V  of  ^im  g 
one,  ..s  a  good  hand  a,  any  kfd"f  ,"'""'  "■'""""  """-'i 
Aodnbon  is  speaking  ironi  al  t  In'"'-  '  """'"-  "r 
*"*'(»»%,  or  even  /„„„„„„  m/  ,  "^  ''^  ""'  *'".  I'e  n.eans 
No  .an  ever  lived  wrot*;,;:':;*;  "'  ""  '"""''"■''C 
Sn.pe,or  thirty  „f  any  other  birf  1  , '  "'  ""'»•-"-  -M^y 
kave  seen  „„„y  eraek  shots  in  .nVlt  f    .'  i"  """''''"'"■     ' 

'""^  ^  ""^  •  -over  saw  the  „„:,  TH:"::,::  r,::  f ,r 


:i 


146 


FRANK   FOHESliiR  S   FIELD   SPORTS. 


i:  ^ 


who,  shooting  at  every  bird  that  rises  in  distance,  can  kill  four  out 
of  five  under  the  most  favorable  circumstances,  day  in  and  day 
out.  He  who  bags  three  out  of  five,  in  covert  and  out  of  covert, 
from  March  Snipe  to  December  Quail,  is  a  top-sawyer ;  and 
ciin  hold  his  own  anywhere,  and  against  any  one. 

Some  men  may  perhaps  kill  twenty  shots  in  succession,  picked 
out  of  fifty  birds  which  ought  to  have  been  shot  at ;  but  my  word 
for  it,  they  will  get  easily  beaten  by  the  man  who  pretends  to  no 
such  feat,  but  who  pulls  his  trigger,  whenever  there  is  a  chance 
of  killing. 

The  real  test  of  shooting,  no  less  than  of  sportsmanship,  is  the 
finding  and  bagging  the  greatest  number  of  birds  within  a  given 
time,  without  the  smallest  reference  to  the  number  of  shots  fired. 

The  surest  of  all  ways  to  ensure  the  never  becoming  a  good 
shot,  is  to  be  afraid  of  missing.  Shoot  at  everything  that  rises 
within  distance,  remembering  always,  as  an  old  Yorkshire  game- 
keeper, by  whose  side  I  bagged  my  first  Snipe  some  eight-and- 
twenty  years  ago,  was  wont  to  admonish  me,  that  t'  Snaipe  was 
i'  t'  maist  danger.  If  you  miss,  say  with  Jacob  Faithful,  "  bet- 
ter luck  next  time,"  and  endeavor  to  observe  and  remember  how 
and  why  you  missed  him  ;  whether  you  shot  above,  below,  or  to 
the  right  or  left  of  him ;  this  will  give  you  steadiness  and  cool- 
ness at  first ;  and,  when  you  succeed  in  remembering,  will  have 
done  much  already  toward  preventing  you  from  missing  fair 
shots  at  least.  For  the  rest,  birds  will  dodge,  at  times,  just  when 
the  trigger  is  drawn  ;  boughs  will  be  in  the  way  5  the  sun  will 
shine  in  the  face  of  the  best  shots — moreover,  the  steadiest  nerves 
will  sometimes  be  shaken  or  unstrung,  and  the  quickest  finger 
will  be  a  thumb  on  some  days  to  the  best  sportsman. 

I  know  a  right  good  shot,  and  a  good  sportsman  too,  and  a 
good  friend  of  mine  to  boot,  who  does  not  pretend  to  kill  quite 
three  out  of  five,  year  in  and  year  out ;  but  who  is  wont  to  say, 
which  is  very  wrong  of  him,  though  I  believe  perfectly  true,  that 
he'll  be  d — d  if  he  can't  beat  any  man,  who  can  kill  twenty  shots 
in  succession. 

So  much  for  thine  encouragement,  my  young  beginner. 


UPLAND   SHOOTING. 

<^ood  shots  have  kWU^  ,  ^^'^ 

d«^  nor  ever  will  do.  ''''*'  ^  «'"  ^^^isfied  no  ,nan  ever 

ke  utter,  i,i,  ,,„,„,.„  -^'-  ™  »  S,„,,e,  ,„  l„  „,„,  ,         ';' 

«h°ot  lh,s  b,rd,  is  ,„  ,,„  =""':«  II  e  ,„„,i  fa-,,,     „ 

.;?::::;?'■  '■^'»«»  <■- 1:  ;^Lrrt"'"■•""-'■*' 
The  old  school  method  w.s  to        • 

«tu/f,  like  taking  a  pU,,],  of  s„uff  J  """'    ''"^  -"  that 

^--ng  the  gn,  ^  J  ,,^„  J  ^^^  after  a  bird  ri.cs  and  before 
ban-e  led  guns  vvith  flint  lock"     ^       '  '"  ''"^^  "^  '^S,  single! 
--'J  knock  over  his  doj^' L,,^^:;^  f^^  "^  the  p.  ^  .,  f^ 
'"  -'^'^ession,  gcule  reader-!",^       "^  ''^^''^  ^-'  ^^^  shots-no, 
--P-nfuH,  picking  up  hil  h        ^  "'^  ''  ^'"^^  «^"-  coach! 
q"-kest  shot  is  the  b^est^^ho;!  "'"•     ^-^--iW..,  Je 

Another  maxim  of  r? 

•;■»  '•«  do,  „,,,  „,,M',7:r„o?|  °"'' :''"  '•™°  -"""'  i».  «.a, 

'■°7;  m..o  time,  „,/,    „f  J"   "  l'«-l..".tn.!    I„.|„,j   j 

A>v„.™;,^,  -I'^e  would  1,0  tl,o  .j,„,,  „,-  „„, 

-thebestdoo-sfn,.  «5,„- 

-..e.-t„o  b.;v:  ti;:r;;'7  •"•^■^  ""■'  ■■»■■  '■«  -.  «.r 

;^«™'  «"■  "-y  u»e,  sooi„„  ,,7,    "*;"■""«■  -"1 ''«  l„.oto„  J 


a*  *s 


lis 


FRANK   forester's   FIELD   SPORTS. 


i 


If  they  be  staunch,  and  liave  good  noses,  and  back  well,  an  i 
drop  to  shot,  whore  they  are,  without  stin-ing  from  the  spot,  a  nil 
without  l)eing  shouted  at,  they  cannot  be  too  fast ;  and,  if  they 
will  not  do  th(;se  things,  it  matters  not  whether  they  be  fust  or 
slow — they  are  worthless. 

The  most  effective-sized  shot  for  Snipe  shooting  is  unquestion- 
ably No.  8.  With  coarser  shot,  the  charge  will  be  so  much 
dispersed  that  so  small  a  bird  as  the  Snipe  will  constantly 
escape  being  hit,  even  when  covered  fairly ;  with  smaller, 
birds  will  continually  be  wounded  only,  within  point  blank 
distance ;  and  will  frequently  go  away  entirely  unharmed. 
Farther  than  this,  it  is  very  rare  to  find  a  lever-topped  belt  or 
flask — which  is  by  far  the  best  implement  for  carrying  shot — 
that  will  not  suffer  any  shot  smaller  than  No.  8  to  escape,  even 
when  the  spring  is  diAvn. 

Many  English  writers,  I  observe,  recommend  the  use  of  two 
different  sized  kind  of  shot,  one  in  either  ban'el ;  but  this  is,  in 
my  opinion,  neither  sportsmanlike  nor  effective.  In  all  events, 
the  barrels  of  a  gun  ought  to  be  fired  alternately ;  otherwise, 
as  five  single  shots  are  fired  for  one  double,  one  ban'el  will  be 
worn  out  while  the  other  is,  comparatively  speaking,  new.  My 
own  experience  has  taught  me  that  for  all  our  Upland  shooting, 
except  that  of  the  Pinnated  Grouse,  at  all  seasons  of  the  year, 
No.  8  is  the  most  effective  shot.  It  will  break  the  pinion  of  a 
Ruffed  Grouse  at  fifty  yards,  and  that  is  all  that  can  be  desired ; 
.md  when  fired  from  a  close-shooting  gun,  properly  brought  to 
l)ear,  will  riddle  its  target  thoroughly  at  the  same  distance.  All 
that  is  gained  in  weight  and  power  by  the  use  of  larger  shot,  is 
lost  in  the  condensation  of  a  charge.  This  will  be  easily  under- 
stood when  the  reader  is  informed  that  an  ounce  of  No.  8  shot 
contains  six  hundred  grains,  or  pellets,  while  No.  7  contains  but 
three  hundred  and  forty-one;  so  that  at  the  same  distance, 
with  the  same  gun,  the  chances  are  nearly  as  two  to  one  in 
favor  of  hitting  a  small  mark  with  No.  8  over  the  larger  shot ; 
the  greater  the  distance,  the  greater  the  advantage  in  this  respect 
of  the  smaller  pellets ;  inasmuch  as  all  shot  are  propelled  on 


VPLAND  SHOOTING. 

fliverginrr  lines-    nn,i  ^^^ 

When  Invch  are  very  ;viM   1.  ^'"""• 

I  con-Ior  an  invention  in  gCo'  t  'T  "^^  '  ^''"^'  -'"'^h 
I  will  state  here  briefly,  fcr  U  "  Ik  f  T"f  °"'^  ^"  P-c„.«io„. 
-n  this  .issile.  that  th;  o  "u!;  "'  'l"^^  ^^•''"  '-«  "ot 

the  charg^e,  like  a  single  ball  fn  ^""^'"'•'"co  is  to  „,opel 

;^- shot  diverges  as  i„  a^o  ;i I,  ^r^^  ^''-^ '-^  and 
^'re.  in  distance,  is  precisely  tnt.       l'^"     ''"'  ^-■"'  ^i-- 
"f  rokon.     This  diffirs  in  L  M         T  ""^^  ^'"  ^'''^^  '"^  '^'iven 
-'dges.  blue,  red,  and  green      tT  '"""""'  ^"'''«  "^  cert 
-^.  except  in  fowLsh^r^  o   'tl'^  ''^^^  """^^  ^^  ^1 
diff.ous,  and  on  Upland  daLerou        T  1  ''"'  '-'""^^  '^  P- 
common  kind,  will  increase  tlieTLor  ''"'  "■'"■^•''  '«''- 
"es«  as   in  strength,  ^  fifte,"  ^^  ''  --T  fe-".  in  close- 
from  twenty  to  forty.     The  1  «  7  '"'^^  ^"^'  ''-  -'^ 

powder,  the  .«.,  .J,^  wil   eir  art  .7  '  ''"    ^"'^""^^^    "'^'^ 

;^'o  is  not  cool  eno:;rf:,7aC"  T  T^  ^'^^"^  --%«. 
^-t.go  away  tvventy^ard     befi^  '^''-'^  ^-«  "P  under  hi 
cannot  shoot  well  enough  to  kilfr/;""   ''  ^""'    «"''  -^^o 
«'ose  carrying  g.,     I  "have  sL  sf  "' T'""^  '^^^^^'^"'^'^ 
Q->1  -  open  ground,  very  lattt    i?''       "  ^""^  ^^''^•''  ^^^ 
"''ff-  >n  my  fi.s,,  ,„j  red  in    '    se       iT"'  ""''  '"^  --■^ 
^reat  success.     I  would,  however  Tf      ^'■"''  ""'^  ^'^^  ^^^^ 
^d  a  blue  cartridge.  ''  ^''^'''  *''«  »««  of  loose  shot 

With  regard  tn  ,1,.^ 

-•'»  walking  i,  c„„f„:i     "        ™'  •"""'"*-.- fa, 

found  any  contrivance  aucceed  i„  t  '"'"■  '  '""<=  ""'er 

«"Se  an,  or  heavy  aplaaiWnl  „;"'''"''  ""'  *"'  '''y^  f-  <> 


idU 


KUANK    FOUEaTER'S    FIKLD    SrOnTS. 


:    !    !: 


i  il' 


Indiiiu  rubber  is  an  abomination ;  as,  if  it  excludes  water,  3t 
also  excludes  air,  prevents  ventilation,  and  enclosing  all  tlie 
exudations  and  transpirations  of  the  pores,  is  equally  uncom- 
fortable, unwiiolosomi!,  and  filthy.  The  moment  boots  are  full 
of  water,  they  are  a  dead  weight,  and  of  course  a  disadvan- 
tage ;  I  have,  therefore,  in  all  ordinary  ground,  long  abandoned 
the  attempt  to  keep  dry  ;  and  invariably  use  laced  ancle  boots 
of  heavy  cowhide,  for  all  sorts  of  sporting.  These  may  be  worn 
either  with  short  gaiters  and  trousers  ;  or,  what  I  consider 
in  every  particular  superior,  and  especially  in  the  facility  they 
give  to  movement  in  encumbered  ground,  or  among  brushwood 
and  stumps,  knee-breeches,  and  leathern  leggins,  buttoned  on 
the  outside.  The  breeches  may  be  made  of  corduroy  or  fus- 
tian for  spring  and  winter,  of  duck  or  drilling  for  summer 
shooting  ;  and,  if  made  long  and  loose  from  the  hij)  to  the  knee, 
I  believe  no  walker  wlfo  has  once  adopted  them  in  this  climate 
will  ever  return  to  heavy  boots  and  trousers. 

If,  however,  the  Snipe-shooter  is  determined  on  endeavoring 
to  keep  himself  dry,  he  had  better  provide  himself  with  long 
boots  from  Canada,  which  he  can  procure,  perfectly  water- 
proof and  of  excellent  quality,  of  any  maker  in  Montreal  or 
Quebec,  for  eight  dollars  a  pair ;  whereas  the  same,  not  equal- 
ly well-made,  would  cost  him  double  the  price,  in  New- York. 
I  will  here,  farther  state,  that  Mr.  Cullen,  No.  119  Broad- 
way, New- York,  is  the  only  workman  on  this  side  the  Atlantic, 
whom  I  know,  that  can  turn  out  a  real-working-shooting-boot 
or  shoe. 

If  you  adopt  my  plan,  reader  mine,  you  must  make  up  your 
mind  to  get  wet  through  in  five  minutes  after  going  out,  and  to 
roiitinue  wet  through,  until  your  return  home  at  night ;  but  be- 
lieve me,  as  in  many  other  cases,  ce  n'est  que  le  jitemler  jias  qui 
route,  the  first  shock  is  all  that  you  have  to  dread  ;  the  water 
witliin  the  shoe  immediately  becomes  warm,  by  contact  with 
the  foot,  and  you  think  no  more  about  it,  after  five  minutes ; 
while  in  a  long  day's  fag  the  absence  of  the  heavy,  dragging 


i|i 


VPLANb  SHOOTING. 
'"ggeu  jack-l)oots  wHl  r^„i 

e.p,  m,h  „  ,„„„  p,„^  j^ ,,,  •  _;;«;<■■  cove,  „„A, ,  ^,^  ^^^„_ 

Tl,p  l,e,t  water .lro.„„g  ,-,  e„u.n  ^,      T"'"'"'  '""  ""^  •»""»■■■ 
'-7«MiNc,  mekcl  e„se,l,o,ri  ,"'■■'""""■•  '-l  Vc,,ic„ 

*"'^  -I  ff.a,l ,1,:°  ,    '  ,"""■■«"  l>il.)<n.,  a„d  l„-„„,  J 

p-«--»  ..*..„<„.  't,.,-;  :„  j"t''  "  •■' """'  «■■'••■  -'* « 

«n<l  I  am  „„  aware  .Lafa'T"''''"  '"  »"  ""»»""'  a,„l  »,,„„, 

In  llio  flrsi  place  we  will  J         ^       ^°  """'  "f"!'"". 
""■■  S.ou„d  i.,,j;:'„'=y- ';■<-.,  a,,d  per..',-,,  ,,,„, 

.1-0-  circuit  in  order  ,o  do  »o      The     ,     '"■""'  "  '"■■""  »"<'  "> 
from  tl.o  habit  of  „,e  Snipe  ,,efo„  „   ''^"""°S'=  "f  '!"»,  arising 

«-.W.is...a..,,eJ.d'"^^\— r-^^^^^^^^^^^ 


1 

■■■  '■! 

1 

H 

|l 

152 


FHANK   FO^ESTEirs    FIELD   SPORTS. 


to  the  right  or  loft,  afibrding  much  closor  and  easier  sliots,  than 
if  we  hunt  tliom  in  the  ordinary  manner. 

I  am  aware  that  there  id  an  objectiou  to  this,  in  the  fact  tliat 
the  (lugs  in  some  degree  hxse  tlio  favor  of  the  wind  ;  hut  dogs, 
properly  broken  to  this  sport,  should  quarter  their  ground  regu- 
larly befi)re  you,  working  with  their  noses  up-wiml,  and  cross- 
ing and  recrossing  at  every  forty  or  fifty  yards,  and  will  find  no 
ditHculty  in  pointing  such  birds  as  will  lie  to  them. 

It  is  wonderful  how  easily  dogs,  which  are  always  shot  over 
by  the  same  man — he  being  one  who  knows  his  business — will 
learn  to  cross  and  requarter  their  ground,  turning  to  the  slight- 
est whistle,  and  following  the  least  gesture  of  the  hand.  I  have 
seen  old  dogs  turn  their  heads  to  catch  their  master's  eye,  if 
they  thought  the  whistle  too  long  defened  ;  and  I  lately  lost  an 
old  red  Irish  setter,  which  had  been  stone-deaf  for  his  two  last 
seasons,  but  which  I  found  no  more  difficulty  in  turning  than 
any  other  dog,  so  accurately  did  he  know  when  to  look  for  the 
signal. 

When  u  dog  has  once  learned  that  it  is  by  his  master's  will, 
and  not  by  his  own,  that  he  is  to  beat  his  ground,  it  is  extraor- 
dinary how  eagerly  he  will  consult,  and  how  readily  he  will  soon 
come  to  pei'ceivo,  his  pleasure. 

I  have  repeatedly  tested  the  two  modes  of  shooting  Snipe,  up 
and  down  wind  ;  and  that  with  dogs  of  all  kinds  and  conditions, 
and  I  have  no  hesitation  in  declaring  my  conviction,  that  by  work- 
ing down-wind,  especially  in  very  wild  and  very  windy  weather, 
when  birds  lie  the  worst,  one-third  more  shots  may  be  got,  and 
double  the  number  of  birds  killed,  than  by  giving  your  dogs,  as 
it  is  called,  the  wind  in  their  noses.  In  the  latter  mode,  it  is 
true,  you  will  have  your  dogs  continually  drawing,  and  perhaps 
pointing,  and  will  have  the  satisfaction  of  hearing  the  "  scaipe, 
scaipc"  of  bird  after  bird,  as  he  rises  out  of  distance,  and  of 
seeing  him  zig-zagging  it  away  up-wind,  at  a  rate  which  sets 
even  your  blue  cartridge  at  defiance. 

Beating  down-wind,  on  the  contrary,  the  birds,  headed  by 
yourself  and  your  dog,  are  likely  enough  to  get  confused   and 


^'^AND   SHOOTINO. 

t'otherod,  and  to  Ho  hard  •        ,  ^^'^ 

I' "-  .  very  t  r ""'  "'"^  "■  -"«,u?„  1        ""  """  ''"^•• 
iackot,  „  ;  7'"'""''  Il'«-.eived  a  J™  jl  ,  f/T"""""^  <>" 

"  '™-o..  /a*^i: :""?,;-  -^ '.'.»; :;;:«::  ::r 

noon  Avr.  T,„  ^    1  ""t'  Jire  one.     Af  .,k     -.  „  "unna- 

'  «  person  who.  as  he  was 


164 


fhank  fohester  s  field  sports. 


;i 


flattorinq  onouj(h  to  say,  did  know  something  iibout  Bliootlng, 
should  be  hucIi  a  flsit  n»  towlioot  Siiipo  down-wiml.  In  the  even- 
ing he  camo  into  the  hnr-rooin,  mid  thoru  found,  fiiHt  of  all,  that 
I  had  boiiteu  him  by  Honio  half-dozen  birdti,  which  ho  said  he 
expected  ;  and,  Hecondly,  that  it  was  for  a  reason,  and  not  for 
the  want  of  one,  that  I  shot  Snijie  down-wind.  Ho  admitted  ut 
once,  that  he  saw  tlnouu;h(»ut  the  day  ihiit  1  was  j,'elting  morn 
and  better  shots  than  he,  whereat  ho  niarvellod,  sceiiiif  ho  knew 
himself  better  dogqed  than  I  ;  but  that  he  still  marvoUod  why 
I  should  shoot  down-wind.  Ho  was,  however,  open  to  convic- 
tion, and  was,  perhaps,  not  sorry  at  having  a  reason  to  give  for 
being  beaten. 

Double  shots  at  Snipe  are  by  no  means  uncommon — com- 
mor>cr,  I  think,  than  at  any  other  sj)ecies  of  game — for  although, 
as  a  general  rule,  the  snipe  is  a  solitary  bird,  both  in  his  habits 
of  flight  and  feeding,  and  acts  independently  of  his  neighbors, 
you  will  usually  find  numbers  of  them  feeding  nearly  together, 
and  rising  nearly  at  the  same  time,  because  alarmed  by  the  same 
sound.  Under  these  circumstances,  however,  they  do  not  usu- 
ally fly  olf  togethei",  like  a  bevy  of  quail,  or  a  plump  of  wild 
fowl,  but  scatter,  each  at  his  own  will.  Now  as  the  wildest 
birds  always  spring  first,  it  oflen  happens  that  your  discharge,  at 
a  long  shot,  flushes  another  much  nearer  by  ;  I  therefore  strongly 
urge  it  on  beginners  to  be  a  little  patient,  and  not  to  blaze  away 
hotk  barrels  in  succession  at  the  same  bird,  or  even  at  two  birds, 
nearly  out  of  distance,  since  by  doing  so  they  will  very  oflen 
lose  a  good  chance  of  bagging  a  bird  close  at  hand. 

It  is,  moreover,  a  very  absurd  and  unsportsmanlike  practice 
to  fire  at  Snipe  out  of  shot,  yet  it  is  a  very  common  one.  The 
Snipe  is  a  very  small  bird,  and  offers,  particularly  when  flying 
directly  from  the  shooter,  an  inconceivably  small  target.  It  is 
not  possible  that  one  can  be  killed,  with  anything  like  certainty, 
at  above  fifty  yards, — I  name  an  extreme  limit.  Now,  in  ordi- 
nary weather,  the  odds  are  about  three  to  one,  that  a  bird  flushed, 
and  not  uselessly  shot  at,  at  this  distance,  will  alight  again  with- 
in three  or  four  hundred  yards,  or  upward,  and  perhaps  afford 


"  *f°"^  '^'^r^co,  „n.I  lie  ton.-  '  ^^5 

matter     Tt  T  ^''"^^y  "ko  ita^^ " S.bl  ""•  T' '""'  "■«»  of 

-«  Wn,„ri  of.  „  "  3,  «-  S--0"nd  U  quite'dtw  T"'" 
I'e  nearly  ,ur„  ,„  »  ,  '  *•  PooI,  or  i/,e  1,L  ,  o"lofa„j, 
"0"t  olZ'l   ,"'■'''"'«  ■««.  b^iMinri't"''^™  "'I 


I 


156 


FRANK    forester's    FIELD   SPORTS. 


which  it  has  fallen  ;  and  I  have  found  it  a  good  plan,  on  step- 
ping up  after  loading  to  look  for  your  game,  to  drop  your  hat, 
or  liuiulkerchief,  on  that  wliicli  you  conceive  to  be  the  exact 
spot ;  otherwise,  while  looking  round  among  the  grass,  it  is  not 
uncommon  to  lose  the  direction  altogether.  In  covert  sliooting, 
in  marking  a  bird,  wliether  shot  at  or  not,  which  flies  behind  a 
brake,  imjjervious  to  the  sight,  cast  your  eye  quickly  forward  to 
tlie  next  opening,  a  little  above  the  line  of  the  bird's  flight,  if  lie 
is  rising,  or  below,  if  dropping  on  the  wing,  to  make  sure  that 
he  does  not  pass  it.  If  a  killed  bird  is  hidden  from  you  by  the 
smoke  of  your  own  fire,  and  you  perceive  by  the  stream  of  fea- 
thers that  he  is  dead,  allow  a  little  for  the  speed  and  direction 
of  his  flight,  which,  if  he  was  going  fast  when  struck,  will  often 
throw  him  many  feet  forwanl  of  the  spot  where  the  shot  smote 
him.  The  shot  itself,  if  close  by  and  hard  hit,  will  at  times  pitch 
him  a  yard  or  two  out  of  his  course. 

A  Snipe  will  sometimes,  but  not  generally,  carry  away  a  jroocl 
many  shot;  but  when  he  does  so,  if  marked  down,  he  almost  in- 
variably rises  again.  Neither  honor  his  congener,  the  Wood- 
cock, is  in  the  habit — so  common  with  the  Quail,  and  sometimes 
with  the  Ruffed  Grouse — of  flying  away  with  his  death-wound 
and  dying  befoi'e  ho  ffil!s.  A  Quail  or  Grouse,  shot  through  the 
heart,  or  through  the  brain,  Avill  constantly  tower,  as  it  is  termed, 
directly  up  into  the  mid-air,  with  a  perpendicular  flight,  and 
quick  beating  of  the  wings,  which  are  kept  up  till  he  vital  spark 
leaves  the  bird  literally  in  the  air,  when  it  turns  over  on  its  back, 
and  falls  like  a  stone.  In  windy  weather  many  Quail  are  lost 
thus,  drifting  out  of  reach  ;  but  I  7icvcr  saw  this  occur  with  a 
Woodcock,  and  never  but  once  with  a  Snipe,  which  then  only 
flirted  up  a  few  feet,  with  an  expiring  eff'ort. 

When,  therefore,  a  Snipe  goes  away  hard  hit,  mark  him  care- 
fully, and  approach  the  spot  stealthily, — it  is  all  a  toss-up  whe- 
tlier  he  lies  like  a  stone,  or  whirls  up  at  sixty  paces,  when  he 
hears  you  coming.  But  however  hard  he  may  lie,  never  relax 
your  watchfulness,  or  put  your  gun  under  your  arm,  or  over 
your  shouldei",  till  he  is  bagged.     I  have  seen  a  crippled  bird 


UPLAND   SHOOTING 

"'^'•'^«'f' to  a  square  varrJ       .  '  ^^"^ 

'""'  >l.oi.-,l„gs  alternate     „,  ","  ""«'  "'o  "Pon^anC! 

^'-f".:s?:^i;;:r-^- 

""»*  »".I  «.<•  .„g„„L,  will T  !:;  "'"y''  ""J  "'•customed  „ 

»>'  on  l„„„i„^,  ,,,.3  „  ™  ly  .ojethe,,    If  e,,,,  „„„  ?. 

°"o"?!'  for  two  men.     W  °  "■"'""' ^•"'  "  1"««  "f  *■„,   °" 

,t':^"''"° »' ''"..  by «.. :  1,  e,.'T''^'-  ---'» - ;,n" 

"ear  to  nllo.v  the  dog.  to  ^  ,"  1  f  "'"•^'■~'">^  »ot  sufficien 
TJ^e  difficulty  of  itt  1      '       '""™^"  >'•''""«•  ^ 


I'  .11* 


i  i    M 


ii  ' 


r 


.1 


158 


FRANK    forester's   FIELD   SPORTS. 


charging  ;  tliat  one  insists  on  his  dog  pointing  his  dead  birds 
before  fetcliing  them  ;  another  suffers  his  to  go  on  and  fetcli  as 
soon  as  ho  has  loaded  ;  and  yet  a  third  takes  no  heed  at  all,  but 
suffers  his  brute  to  rush  in  as  soon  as  the  gun  is  discharged. 

Tiio  last  is,  of  course,  a  barbarism,  to  which  no  one  worthy 
of  being  called  a  sportsman  will  resort  ;  the  others  are  still  held 
to  bo  mooted  points  ;  and  there  are  sportsmen  who  hold  to  both 
I  do  not  myself  admit  any  doubt  on  the  subject ;  nor  do  I  esteem 
any  dog  broken,  which  does  not  drop  to  charge,  at  the  report, 
without  stimng  from  the  place, — which  does  not  lie  at  charge, 
until  ordered  to  "  hold  up,"  and  which  docs  not  point  his  dead 
game,  until  desired  to  "  fetch."  Still,  so  long  as  diversity  of 
opinion  exists  on  these  points,  and  dogs  are  broken  according 
to  the  good  or  bad  judgment  of  owners  and  breakers,  different 
animals  cannot  be  expected  to  hunt  harmoniously  together  ;  and 
so  unfortunate  is  the  propensity  both  of  men  and  beasts  to 
learn  evil  more  easily  than  good  knowledge,  that  two  or  three 
days'  companionship  with  a  rash,  headstrong,  rushing  brute, 
will,  it  is  likely,  play  the  very  deuce  with  your  carefully  broken 
dogs,  and  cause  them  to  contract  tricks,  which  it  will  cost  you 
much  pains  and  trouble  to  eradicate. 

It  is  so  very  common  an  occurrence,  while  in  pursuit  of  spring 
Snipe,  to  find  different  kinds  of  Wild  Duck,  particularly  the 
two  varieties  of  Teal,  the  Wood  Duck,  the  Mallard,  and  the 
Pintail,  that  it  is  well  worth  the  while  to  cany  a  few  red  car- 
tridijes  of  No.  1  or  No.  2  shot, — Col.  Hawker  obseiTinar  of 
these  missiles,  "  that  for  a  wild  open  country,  or  shooting  by 
day  at  wild  fowl,  he  cannot  say  too  much  in  their  favor  in 
their  present  improved  state." 

It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  state  here,  that  when  two  persons 
are  shooting  in  company,  neither  must  on  any  account  think  of 
firing  at  a  bird  which,  however  fairly  it  may  rise  to  himself, 
flies  across  his  companion.  Each  sportsman  should  take  the 
bird  which  flies  outwardly  from  the  common  centre  ;  by  doing 
which  he  will  not  only  avoid  the  incivility  of  shooting  across  his 
friend's  face,  but  will,  in  the  long  run,  bring  many  more  birds 


^^^AND    S,IOOTmG. 


'"S:  across  a  comn  '  ""'^  ^'o ^nish  f..  ,  • 

^^«  genuine  ;„_  '""' '"^^  «"co.  ..,;,,. 

^"'''  oven  in  ",'    ^  "''"^"  ^'"  '''Iwnys  .iv 

^''^^  ^'  ^«nds  to  11  ^,  ''^^  P^«^-^^--  of  ,,]  '^^     ':-«"'«fe-  gained 

^"^■cessive  d^v,      ",''"«''  on  the  meadn„.  ''  "" '''« 'a^-e 

"'■^^  ^'--  fe"1- '"  ^'"^^-^  ^--"0?:  "7"-^-«.  -d  t 
'"•--'.  in  haunts  ail^T'  ^'"^^  ^'^  '^o  0  ^/'-^f -ts  to  ba- 
S^-""d-     So  soon  t'T"-  '^^■«'-««  fi,  r    '  "'  '  '"^"  '-^--e 
'''^  ^""nd  at  an  or'       "'"•^'  ««  "  '"«  eviden  r''  ^-"'"'ff 

^J^i'-^s  of  the  nea  OS     "      '"'^  >'"«'•  atte     1    "'"'"'•«'  ""  fho 

^-•".-plantation     I  ""'^'''^"^«'  ""^ler  s       "  'T^"'^^^'  ^'>  ''- 

•"  «''on.  Wherever  thT^^  "''"^^^'  «'J-.  an    ti/"'^"'''^  •>^ 

^-•^-^ly  sheltered     „?  "  '"^'^  -«  «Prin'    ?''"'"'  ""'^• 

shrubbery.  ""'  '^"'^  Protected  fr^^  ,,"^^  !^^,'''"ff  ground. 

vot.  I.  "^^nd  by  trots  or 

13 


160 


FRANK    FOP.ESTEI!  S    FIELD    SPOUTS. 


I  first  ol)scrved  this  habit  of  the  American  Snipe,  which  is  ijt- 
terly  at  variance  with  tlie  Ivabitof  its  Enropean  congener,  at  the 
English  Neighborhood,  on  the  Haekensack  River,  where,  by- 
mere  accident,  I  stumbled  on  a  number  of  birds  in  the  cow- 
patha,  among  thick  brushwood,  far  above  the  salt  meadows,  to- 
ward the  Upland,  I  next  found  them  in  similar  ground  on  a 
very  wild  day,  at  the  end  of  March,  or  the  beginning  of  April, 
on  the  Long  Meadow  at  Pine  Brook.  On  that  occasion  the 
birds  were  all  busily  employed  in  drumming, — a  habit  of  the 
Snipe,  as  it  is  generally  stated  by  naturalists,  during  the  breed- 
ing season.  I  have  myself,  however,  never  witnessed  it,  except 
immediately  on  their  arrival  in  this  district,  long  before  they  had 
even  begun  to  pair.  The  habit  is,  however,  clearly  connected 
with  their  nuptial  and  vernal  propensities,  and  probably  conti- 
nues from  the  commencement  of  th*  Ir  sexual  intercourse,  to  the 
end  of  their  incubation.  It  is  performed,  I  believe,  solely  by 
the  male  bird,  which  rises  in  the  air  till  he  is  almost  out  of  sight, 
where  he  disports  him  for  hours  in  mjd  ether,  sailing  round  and 
round  in  small  circles,  and  at  limes  letting  himself  fall,  fifty  feet 
or  more,  plumb  down,  before  he  again  sails  on  his  wing.  It  is 
during  these  perpendicular  descents,  that  this  strange,  powerful, 
and  musical  hum  is  uttered, — it  is  comparai)le  to  no  other  sound 
that  I  can  name,  and  must  be  heard  to  be  conceived.  It  is  very 
pleasing  and  sonorous,  and  may  be  distinguished  at  a  great  dis- 
tance. Once  heard,  it  can  be  mistaken  for  no  other  noise,  made 
by  either  bird  or  beast, — nor  will  the  sportsman  be  apt  to  for- 
get it,  as  it  is  to  him  strangely  ill-omened  ;  for,  while  it  is  going 
on,  birds  will  rarely  or  never  suffer  themselves  to  be  approached 
within  gunshot, — rising,  as  soon  as  flushed,  spirally  into  the  air, 
each  seeming  to  call  up  another  by  the  sound,  and  sporting  to- 
gether aloft,  "  whirling  round  each  other,"  to  borrow  the  elo- 
quent language  of  Mr.  Audubon,  "  with  extreme  velocity,  and 
dancing  as  it  were  to  their  own  music  ;  for  at  this  juncture,  and 
during  the  space  of  five  or  six  minutes,  you  hear  rolling  notes 
mingling  together,  each  more  or  less  distinct,  perhaps  according 
to  the  state  of  the  atmosphere."     I  was  surprised  to  find  that 


' 


UPLAND    SHOOTING. 


161 


Mr.  Audubon  here  states  his  doubts,  whether  this  sound  is  pro- 
duced by  the  feathers  of  the  wing, — or  rather  almost  asserts  his 
conviction  that  it  is  voiitriloqous.  I  have  lain  on  the  turf  for 
hours,  watching  them  when  in  this  mood,  and  .when  all  fartlier 
attempt  at  pursuit  of  thom  wouM  Imve  been  useless,  and  have 
observed  their  motions  with  a  good  glass.  I  am  myself  satis- 
fied that  the  sound  is  produced  by  the  fact,  that  the  bird,  by 
some  muscular  action  or  other,  turns  the  quill-feathers  edgewise, 
as  he  drops  plumb  through  the  air ;  and  that,  wliile  in  this  posi- 
tion, during  his  accelerated  descent,  the  vibration  of  the  feathers, 
and  tlie  passage  of  the  air  between  them,  gives  utterance  to  this 
wild  humming  sound. 

Such  likewise  is  the  account  given  by  European  naturalists 
of  the  same  sound  which  is  produced  by  the  Snipe  there  at  the 
same  vernal  period  ;  they  mention,  moreover,  a  peculiar  cry  of 
the  male  bird  at  this  season,  difierent  from  his  shrill  squeak,  on 
being  flushed,  which  is  precisely  identical  in  the  American  and 
European  species — this  they  describe  as  resembling  the  word 
"  Pfct."  thrice  repeated  in  a  shrill  whistle.  This  I  never  have 
noticed  in  the  American  birds  ;  but,  on  two  different  occasions, 
when  the  birds  were  at  the  very  wildest,  drumming  away  for 
hours  at  a  stretch,  and  not  giving  even  a  chance  of  a  shot,  I 
have  observed  another  cry,  which  I  cannot  find  recorded  either 
by  Wilson  or  Audubon,  any  more  than  the  practice,  by  which 
it  is  accompanied,  of  alighting  on  fences,  stumps,  and  even  on 
tall  tree-tops. 

This  cry  is  a  sharp,  reiterated  chatter,  consisting  of  a  quick, 
jarring  repetition  of  the  syllables,  kr/{-kek-/cc7:-/cek-/cfJc,  many 
times  in  succession,  with  a  rising  and  falling  inflection,  like  that 
of  a  hen  which  hus  just  laid  an  egrr.  This  singular  sound  is 
uttered  as  the  bird  is  descending  from  its  gyrations  and  musical 
performances  ;  and,  after  having  descended,  while  it  is  skim- 
ming low  over  the  surface  of  the  bog  meadows,  previous  to 
alighting.  While  in  this  humor,  I  have  never  seen  them  alight 
directly  into  the  grass,  but  have  invariably  observed  them  to  set- 
tle first  on  the  stump  of  a  dead  tree,  or  on  a  rail  fence,  and 


i 


i  {.nil 


M 


h 


1G2 


FRANK    forester's    FIELD    SPORTS 


'.' 


f\ 


thereafter  drop  into  the  rushes.  On  both  of  these  occasions,  the 
l)ir(ls  hqhted  many  times  o)j  tlio  very  topmost  branches  of  the 
willows,  and  other  trees,  which  lined  the  fences ;  and  on  one  oc- 
casion, 1  saw  a, Snipe  take  flight  fiom  a  branch,  rise  upward, 
and  resume  his  drumming,  without  first  returning  to  the  level 
ground. 

On  the  day  when  I  first  witnessed  these  performances,  which 
astonished  me,  I  confess,  little  less  than  it  would  have  done  had 
they  begun  to  sing  "  God  save  the  King,"  or  "  Hail  Columbia," 
which  would  perhaps  have  been  more  appropriate — I  observod 
that  when,  at  length,  they  ceased  diiimming,  wiiich  they  did  as 
the  day  grew  hotter,  they  all  flew  off  in  one  direction,  toward 
some  meadows  oven'un  with  brakes,  cat-briars,  brambles  and 
thorn  bushes ;  and  herein  I  had  good  sport  with  them  for  seve- 
ral hours,  after  having  despaired,  in  the  morning,  of  getting  a 
shot  at  all. 

Since  that  time,  I  have  repeatedly  found  them  in  similar 
ground  at  Chatham,  yet  higher  up  on  the  course  of  the  Passaic, 
where  there  is  a  great  deal  of  covert  of  that  particular  nature- 
low  stunted  bushes,  and  briar  patches,  growing  in  boggy,  springy 
ground.  So  notoriously  is  it  the  case  that  Snipe,  on  their  first 
coming,  there  frequent  such  localities,  whenever  the  weather  is 
not  moi-e  than  commonly  warm  and  genial,  that  it  is  the  habit 
of  many  old  sportsmen  to  beat  for  them  regularly  in  such  places, 
without  trying  the  meadows  at  all,  on  their  first  an-ival.  I  have 
killed  hundreds  of  couples  in  such  places  ;  and  have  put  up 
scores,  at  a  small  enumeration,  of  Woodcock,  tJten  .sitting  on  their 
eggs,  from  the  self-same  coverts  at  the  same  time.  Indeed,  the 
same  brakes,  a  little  later  in  the  season,  aff"ord  the  very  best 
cock-shooting.  Once,  and  once  only,  at  the  same  place,  Chat- 
ham, during  a  snow-squall,  I  shot  several  couple  of  Snipe  in  a 
very  thick  piece  of  swampy  woodland,  among  tall  timber-trees 
with  heavy  undercovert — precisely  what  one  wopM  ca.'i  admi- 
rable summer  Cock-ground — the  Snipe  flew  in  and  out  of  the 
brakes,  and  thridded  the  branches,  as  rapidly  as  Quail  or  Cock 
would  have  done,  in   similar  thickets.      What  has  happened 


UPLAND    SnOOTlNO. 


103 


^ 


once,  especially  in  the  ways  of  animals,  is  like  to  occur  again  ; 
and  1  should  not  hesitate,  when  there  was  no  tract  of  low 
springy  underwood  near  at  hand  to  Snipe  meadows,  to  beat 
high  wet  woodlands  for  this  bird,  during  the  permanence  of 
cold  storms  and  violent  winds,  sufficient  to  drive  them  from  the 
open  fields.  At  all  events,  let  the  sportsman  remember  that  in 
the  Middle  and  Eastern  States,  bushy  ground,  briar-patches, 
alder  and  willow  brakes,  and  tlu;  like,  are  as  regular  haunts  of 
Snipe  in  spring,  as  bog  tussocks  or  marshy  meadows ;  and  that 
there  is  no  more  j)ropriety  in  his  omitting  to  try  such  ground 
for  them,  than  there  would  be  in  neglecting  to  beat  thickets  and 
dingles  for  Quail,  because  they  ordinarily  feed  on  stubbles. 

While  I  am  mentioning  the  peculiar  habits  of  the  American 
Snipe,  such  more  particularly  as  it  is  not  generally  known  to 
possess,  I  may  observe  that  although  not  web-footed,  or  even 
semi-palmated, this  little  bird  swims  jupidly  and  boldly.  I  was 
previously  aware  that,  on  falling  wing-tipped  into  the  water,  it 
was  able  to  support  itself,  and  even  to  sti'uggle  away  from  a 
dog  ;  but  I  had  no  idea  that  it  would  take  the  water  of  its  own 
accord,  till  I  was  a  witness  to  the  fact  under  rather  singular 
circumstances.  I  was  standing  still,  loading  my  gun,  both  l)ar- 
rels  of  which  I  had  just  discharged,  on  the  brink  of  a  broad 
epring-fed  ditch  wliich  runs  along  the  lower  side  of  the  Long 
Meadow,  when  a  bird,  flushed  by  a  friend  at  some  distance, 
flew  over  my  head  and  dropped  within  ten  feet  of  me,  on  a 
spot  of  bare  black  soil,  between  two  or  three  large  grassy  tus- 
socks, and  the  ditch.  I  had  never,  at  that  time,  observed  tiie 
natural  motions  of  the  Snipe,  when  unalarmed  ;  and  I  stood 
watching  him,  for  some  time,  as  he  walked  gracefully  to  and 
fro,  and  stooped  down  once  or  twice  and  bored  in  the  mud, 
oringing  up  each  time  a  small  red  angle-worm  in  his  bill,  utterly 
unconscious  of  my  presence.  After  a  minute  or  two,  he  delib- 
erately entered  the  ditch,  and  oared  himself  across  it,  as  easily 
and  for  more  gracefully  than  any  water-fowl  could  have  done. 
I  have  since  regretted,  that  I  did  not  show  myself  at  this  mo- 
ment, in  order  that  I  might  liave  ascertained  whether  it  pos- 


'    ''iU 


'''  1 


I  ! 


!!• 


164 


FRANK    FOKKSTKIl'a    FIELD    SPORTS. 


sussed  the  power  of  taking  wing  from  tlie  surface  of  watei, 
which  I  am  greatly  inclined  to  doubt.  I  was  well  aware  pre- 
viously of  the  fact,  that  many  of  the  Shore-birds  and  Sand- 
pipers swim  on  emergency,  but  I  little  suspected  the  Snipe  of 
possessing  the  like  power. 

I  know  not  that  tiie  being  acquainted  with  this  habit  of  the 
Snipe  can  materially  aid  the  sportsman ;  but,  in  case  of  dogs 
drawing  on  the  trail  of  birds,  which  had  run  and  fed,  up  to  a 
brt»ok-sido,  or  on  the  foot  of  a  wing-tij)ped  bird,  I  should  now 
certainly  try  forward,  across  the  water,  wliich  I  should  not  pre- 
viously have  done. 

I'iie  peculiarities  of  cry,  flight,  and  perching,  which  I  have 
related  above,  are  well  known  to  many  of  our  sportsmen  here ; 
and  I  can  readily  produce  half-a-dozen  witnesses  to  the  various 
facts  I  have  stated,  within  a  dozen  miles  of  the  room  in  which 
I  am  now  writing  ;  as  well  as  to  the  bird's  occasional  habit  of 
resorting  to  the  interior  of  woods,  which  Mr.  Audubon  positive- 
ly asserts  that  he  ncrer  does. 

By  the  way,  since  penning  the  above,  it  just  strikes  me  that 
in  the  S})ring  of  IS  10,  when  the  snow  was  not  entirely  off  the 
Uplands,  in  shooting  with  a  friend  from  Quebec,  we  moved  three 
Snipe  from  a  little  piece  of  white-birch  woodland,  one  of  which 
was  shot  by  my  companion,  and  retrieved  by  my  setter  in  the 
bushes,  and  a  second  of  which  I  killed  over  a  point  in  the  next 
field,  not  very  far  from  Lorette. 

I  am  inclined  to  believe  all  these  habits  to  be  purely  local, 
as  concerns  the  American  bird.  Not  local,  owing  to  any 
peculiar  circumstance  of  the  place,  but  of  the  seasons  in  which 
the  bird  visits  or  frequents  the  places.  In  other  words,  I  sup- 
jjose  them  all  to  be  coimected  with  the  amorous  and  sexual 
intercourse  of  the  birds,  and  to  commence  and  terminate  with 
the  breeding  season. 

In  the  summer,  when  I  have  shot  a  few  young  birds  during 
Cock-shooting,  and  in  the  autumn  when  I  have  killed  live 
times  as  many  as  I  have  in  spring,  I  never  heard  any  cry  from 
the  Snipe  except  the  regular  "  scaipe  ;"  noi   have  I  ever  seen 


I 


'I  .; 


■,'ll 


UPLANn    SIIOOTINf,. 


100 


i 


it  manifest  tiie  slightest  inclination  to  alight  on  fence,  rail,  log 
or  tree.  I  therefore,  suppose  these  habits  to  he,  like  drumniing, 
peculiar  to  the  season,  and  analogous  to  the  circling  and  strut- 
ting of  Doves,  the  fan-tailing  of  Peacocks,  and  the  like.  I 
should  he  curious  to  leani,  however,  from  my  Southern  liic  iids, 
who  kill  them  during  the  winter  in  far  greater  innuhers  on 
their  Georgia  and  Carolina  rice  fields  than  we  can  pretend  to 
do  on  our  barren  hog  meadows,  whether  they  are  ever  known 
there  either  to  take  to  woodland  coverts,  or  to  tree. 

The  English  Snipe,  I  am  certain,  wc/vr  does  either,  both  from 
my  own  experience,  and  from  the  f)bservatioii  of  many  oliler 
and  better  sportsmen  than  myself.  I  have  shot  the  I'^nglish 
bird  constantly,  and  for  several  successive  springs,  in  th(>  fi-ns 
of  Cambridge  and  Norfolk  ;  and  I  have  heard  him  dnnn  there 
more  frequently  than  I  have  here,  but  I  never  heard  him  chat- 
ter, or  saw  him  take  the  tree  ;  and  1  am  certain  that  he  never 
does  so. 

AVhilp  speaking  on  this  subject  I  must  observe,  again  re- 
spectfully difl'ering  from  Mr.  Audubon,  who  asserts  tliat  "  there 
is  as  great  a  difference  between  the  notes  of  the  English  and 
American  species  of  Snipe,  as  there  is  between  the  American 
Crow  and  the  Carrion  Crow  of  Euro))e,"  that  in  my  o])inion 
the  cry  of  the  two  Snipes  is  in-rfict}}!  itlcnticul ;  and  in  this 
view  I  am  corroborated  by  the  judgment  of  several  English 
sportsmen,  with  whom  I  have  habitually  shot  for  mjiny  seasons 
here,  and  who,  like  myself,  had  killed  Hundreds  of  coujjIcs  of 
Snipe,  before  visiting  America.  The  number  of  feathers  in  the 
tail  of  the  European  and  American  sjiecies  differs ;  and  I  am 
nearly  certain  that  the  English  bird  is  somewhat  larger  and 
heavier — Wilson,  who  first  distinguished  the  two  sjkhmi's,  noti- 
ces the  difference  in  size — but  otherwise  in  appearance,  and 
in  all  their  ordinary  habits,  they  are  identical.  I  lay,  how- 
ever, great  stress  on  the  diflerence  of  note,  in  tlie  breedintr 
season,  and  in  the  other  peculiarities  alluded  to,  as  setting  the 
question  of  variety  on  a  much  broader  and  more  distinct  base, 


1   il 


'  i  i  :  I 


IG6 


FRANK    FORESTEK'S    FIELD   SPOKTS. 


than  tho  distinction  between  sixteen  and  fourteen  tail-foatliers, 
and  an  inch  more  or  loss  in  length. 

Until  I  saw  tho  American  Snipe  perch  in  tall  trees,  and 
heard  them  cackle  like  laying  I'ullets,  I  regarded  the  d'fl'er- 
ence  between  tho  species  as  merely  nominal.  Every  day  since 
that  time  I  have  more  clearly  discorned  its  reality ;  and  have 
in  coiisecjuence  learned  to  look  for  them,  and  find  them  too, 
where  I  .should  as  soon  have  thought  of  hunting  for  an  Ostrich 
as  for  a  Snipe,  in  Englaml. 

With  regard  to  the  hal)its  of  tho  bird  in  summer,  I  Iniow  lit- 
tle ;  but  that  little  is  enough  to  enable  nie  to  say  thnt  they  are 
in  no  wise  diHereut  from  his  autumnal  customs.  Tho  Snipe 
returns  to  Lower  Canuda,  from  the  northward,  with  tho  young 
birds  full  fledged  in  July,  and  is  at  that  time,  and  until  driven 
away  by  the  frost,  shot  in  immense  numbers  on  the  marshes  at 
Chateau  Richer,  at  (ioose  Island,  and  hundreds  of  other  places 
down  the  St.  Lawrence.  Along  both  shores  of  the  Great 
Northern  Lakes  they  abound,  at  the  san.n  lime,  or  a  little  later; 
and  accordingly  as  the  season  sets  in  early  or  late,  so  do  they 
regulate  their  arrival  with,  and  departure  from,  us.  The  earli- 
est period  at  which  I  have  ever  killed  migratory  Snipe,  birds  1 
mean  not  bred  here,  is  the  12th  of  September;  when,  in  1842, 
I  bagged  fourteen  couple  and  a-half  in  a  deep  bog-meadow 
at  Chatham.  The  latest  day,  on  which  I  have  shot  them  is  the 
9th  of  November,  at  Pine  Brook.  I  have  been  assured,  how- 
ever, by  an  excellent  sportsman,  on  whose  word  I  can  fully 
rely,  that  he  has  killed  them  on  a  spring  brook,  in  which  the 
water  never  freezes  in  the  hardest  weather,  daily,  until  the 
19th  of  December.  This  was  in  Orange  county,  moreover, 
where  the  frost  sets  in  at  least  a  fortnight  earlier  than  it  does 
below  the  Highlands  of  the  Hudson.  The  same  gentleman, 
some  years  since,  killed  thirty-five  Woodcock  on  the  13th  day 
of  December;  a  circumstance,  so  far  as  my  knowledge  goes, 
unparalleled  in  this  region.  There  is,  however,  no  possible 
<lonl)t  of  the  fact ;  as,  being  himself  aware  of  its  strangeness, 
he  took  unusual  pains  to  verify  it  by  sufRcient  evidence.     There 


if  I 

'I  I 

ii 

iil    i! 


UPLAND   SHOOTING. 


167 


liad  been,  if  T  do  not  eiT,  a  very  early  fall  of  snow,  succeeded 
by  liard  frosts  early  in  November,  and  after  that,  uncommonly 
mild  and  open  weather. 

In  autumn  Snipe-shooting  there  is  nothing  to  be  observed, 
except  that  the  birds  are  more  composed  and  less  restless 
than  in  the  spring ;  that,  unless  persecuted  and  driven  from  the 
ground  by  incessant  shooting,  they  linger  on  the  same  mea- 
dows, until  the  coldness  of  the  weather  compels  them  to  travel 
southward  ;  that  they  lie  much  better  to  the  dog,  allowing 
themselves  to  be  pointed  steadily,  and  rarely  flushing  out  of 
fair  distance  ;  and,  to  conclude,  that  they  are  much  fatter,  much 
larger,  much  easier  to  kill,  and  much  better  eating  than  in  tlio 
spring  season.  I  have  never  seen  them  in  bushy  ground,  oi 
even  among  briars,  in  the  autumn,  though  I  cannot  state  that 
they  never  take  to  such  places. 

Mr.  Audubon  states  the  weight  of  the  American  Snipe  at  3 
oz.  The  average  weight  of  the  English  species  is  4  oz.  J 
never,  but  once,  weighed  any  American  birds.  I  was  then 
struck  by  their  apparently  unusual  size ;  when  I  weighed 
twenty-five  together  at  the  tavern  at  Pine  Brook,  and  they 
averaged  within  a  small  fraction  of  5  oz.  each. 

The  Snipe  is  delicious  eating,  inferior  to  no  bird  that  flies, 
save  the  Upland  Plover,  and  the  Canvass-Back  Duck.  Like 
all  birds  that  feed  on,  or  near  the  water,  he  must  be  eaten /i-csh. 
A  tnie  gastronomer  abhors  Woodcock,  Snipe  or  wild  fowl, 
in  the  slightest  degree  7iig7i.  Gallinaceous  game  are  the  better 
for  keeping,  wild  fowl  and  waders  are  ruined  by  it.  If  pos- 
sible they  should  be  eaten  within  twenty-four  hours  after  being 
killed. 

Tley  should  be  carefully  picked  by  hand,  on  no  account 
drawn — that  is  a  practice  worthy  of  an  Esquimaux,  as  is  that 
of  splitch-cocking  and  broiling  them — the  neck  should  be  bent 
downward,  and  the  bill  run  transversely  through  the  body,  im- 
mediately below  the  pinions ;  one  leg  thrust  through  the  sinew 
of  the  other  thigh — they  should  be  roasted,  at  the  outside,  ten 
minutes  before  a  very  quick,  brisk  fire  ;  with  no  condiment,  or 


1 


1      ; 

i     !' 

1 ' 

r 

! 

1       j 

1 

i,;^ 

M 

168 


FRANIC    FORESTKr's    FIELD   SPORTS. 


:i 


k'  > 


butter — a  tliiii  sHro  of  crisp  butterod  toast  Hlioiild  1)0  laid  uiid».'r 
tiiom  vvliilo  cooliiiiy,  to  catcli  the  gravy  and  trail,  if  it  cliaiico  to 
fall  out ;  and  this  h  to  bo  served  up  under  tliom,  wlion  dinhod 
for  the  table.  Any  made  gravy  or  sauco  is  an  abominatitin  ; 
and  tlio  |iiii('tice  of  blanltcting  tlio  birds  vvliilo  roasting  in  slips 
of  fat  bacon  should  bo  liold  tho  death-warrant  of  any  cook,  in  a 
well  regulated  family.  A  littlo  salt,  and  bread  f/uan(um  .v////! 
may  bo  eaten  with  him  ;  and  a  glass — or  if  you  please  bottle 
— of  chamboilin  drank  with  him — but,  as  you  live,  eschew 
sauces,  vegetables,  or — small  beer ! 

More  people,  I  believe,  know  better  liow  to  kill  a  Snipe 
tccirndum  artcin,  than  how  to  cook  him  deccntli/,  or  eat  him 
grao'/uUif,  when  slain.  It  becomes  the  sportsman  to  shine  in 
both  capacities  ;  and,  though  myself  I  partake  a  little  too  much 
of  the  true  Spaniel's  ([uality  to  care  much  about  eating  game, 
I  should  at  least  have  him  oaten,  if  eaten  he  must  bo,  as  a  dish 
for  gods,  not  as  a  carcase  for  hounds. 


iidi-r 
;'e  to 
shed 
tioii ; 
slips 
ill  ii 
s„Jf\ 

lOttio 

:liow 

uiipo 
him 
no  in 
much 
;ame, 
,  dish 


I  }    :i«  •  : 


•! 


il  H 


.  •  ; 


i 


li; 


v''-'4lft 


V  ■ 


'i''>i 


I 


►Sl.U.' ■.u '.:■     \ 


/,.,,.,.r-    ••.  ,,    .. 

4  \  ■■■'■'    ■  ,■   ,  sr..l   ' 


-(■r*'-:-.-.1| 

rciii'v;;  'V    mKu  :i!!'!  •  'f'Mi  

;n  ■;  '!iilii  V.-.  I  i;;i;  .  a'  '■"'^''  ?      -  ' 

■.)      Mi(^     ■ni'.lll;''!'.'  ■•!':'. H"     ••        •      !' 


-.UC 


••    X,u-V 

*!     ,1.      lllC 


,!„'■!  i|ii'  -^'iiM'  '■'   'I! 


I'll.  imI' 


cu,  ''ir-  1 !;  !■ 


rnii<  i-'i'  I'  li 


[i;  'ill'   i''-ui:>i 


n-l   '111'    !><:t.i-  •      ''i\ 


'11  kJ    .k 


il'.l'i'''.-'     "  ' 


I    t 


line    I  ■  \ii/  ■      1      > 


ifi    I-;.  l.iiiT 


■t    liiv.      ' 


liIrtM:      I'l 


'i\i'  ,.ir 


C11.. 


:g.) 


I  m 


\m\ 


i  i; 


"Ti.'-';| 

ill 

vail! 


n  -H,.! 


■^WM 


WW 


•#' 


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L 


ti'LANi)   s::;)oTl\o. 


lb.) 


SUMMER    WOODCOCK    SHOOTING. 


!■  ■,:i 


HE  wisdom  of  oar  <riime  laws  haa 
(lecidetl  that  Woodcock  slr.iU  be  kill- 
ed and  taken,  by  all  and  sundry,  in 
the  State  of  New- York,  on  and  aftei 
the  first,  in  tlie  State  of  New  Jersey 
on  and  aflcr  tlie  Hnii  day  of  July; 
although  in  the  latter  State  the  prac- 
lice  of  the  sovereign  people  has  de- 
termined that  iiie  fourth  is  the  day  intended  by  the  enactment, 
and  on  the  fourth,  accordingly,  the  slaughter  commences.  In 
Pennsylvania,  and  Coimecticut,  practite  at  least,  if  not  law — 
and  until  recently,  if  there  be  now,  there  was  no  statute  on  the 
subject— has  prescribed  the  same,  or  nearly  the  same  period, 
for  the  commencement  of  Cock-shooting ;  and  even  in  those 
counties  of  New- York  to  which  the  'Miactmcnt  of  these  game 
laws,  such  as  they  are,  does  not  extend,  tacit  agreement  has 
prescribed  the  same  regulation,  at  least  among  sportsmen. 

So  far,  indeed,  has  this  practice  been  carri«;d,  that  by  meana 
of  a  convention  of  this  sort,  the  shooting  of  Woodcock  is  ta- 
booed, until  the  fourth  of  .Tuly,  even  in  the  islands  of  the  Great 
Lakes  and  the  Detroit  River.  The  example  was  set  by  the 
officers,  I  believe,  of  the  American  and  JJritish  garrisons  at 
Detroit  and  Amherstbcrg,  acting  in  concert,  and  the  practice 
has  almost  become  common  law. 

The  fact  is,  therefore,  that  everywhere  through  the  United 
States  and  the  British  Provinces,  whether  there  is  or  is  not  any 
distinct  law  on  the  subject,  the  commencement  of  Jjly  is  as 


:i     I 


170 


FRANK   forester's    FIELD    SPORTS. 


regularly  hailed  tho  legitimate  time  for  Woodcock  shooting,  as 
the  first  of  September  in  England  for  Partridge. 

In  New  Jersey,  which  is  in  almost  every  respect  a  century 
behind  all  the  neighboring  States,  there  is  a  special  proviso 
that  on  his  own  ground  every  man  may  kill  all  sorts  of  game 
whenever  he  pleases,  without  the  slightest  reference  to  common 
sense  or  humanity,  and  may  give  permission,  to  any  one  he 
pleases,  to  do  likewise.  A  proviso,  which  not  only  abrogates 
the  whole  law,  in  point  of  fact,  but  in  truth  gives  the  poacher  a 
clear  advantage  over  the  honorable  sportsman. 

There  is,  however,  I  imagine,  no  prospect  of  any  alteration  of 
this  law,  which  is  in  perfect  keeping  with  the  pig-headed 
stupidity  manifested  throughout  the  legislation  of  that  State. 
And  why,  in  fact,  should  not  a  man  be  allowed  to  kill  Wood- 
cock whenever  he  likes  on  his  own  ground,  in  a  State  wherein 
a  company  is  licensed  to  kill  men  and  women,  whenever  they 
like,  on  their  own  rail-road ;  and  charge  them  whatever  they 
like  for  killing  them  into  the  bargain  1 

On  the  first  of  July,  then.  Woodcock  shooting  legitimately 
commences  ;  although  before  that  day  hundreds,  nay  thousands, 
are  killed  along  the  sea-board,  and  notoriously  offered  for  sale 
by  almost  all  the  restaurateurs  and  hotel-keepers  in  New- York, 
the  utmost  efforts  of  the  Sportsman's  Club  to  the  contrary  not- 
withstanding. 

At  this  period,  about  four-fifths  of  the  birds — the  young 
birds,  of  course,  I  mean — are  half  gi'own  or  thereabout,  some 
only  lioing  a  few  weeks  old,  and  others,  in  late  and  adverse 
seasons,  scarcely  hatched, 

The  Woodcock  commences  laying  as  early  as  the  beginning 
of  February,  and  sometimes  lays  so  late  as  to  the  end  of  June, 
or  the  beginning  of  July.  The  eggs  are  four,  and  sometimes 
five  in  number, — of  no  more  than  this  does  any  naturalist  in- 
foiTO  us.  Whether  the  old  birds  regularly  breed  a  second,  and 
third  time,  what  becomes  of  the  young  birds  of  the  first  hatch- 
ing in  the  meantime,  and  whether  they  are  protected  by  tho 
male  bird,  is  all  lefl  dark. 


UPLAND    SHOOTING. 


171 


Now,  altlioiigh  the  length  of  time  occupied  hy  incubation,  is 
not  laid  down  in  the  books,  it  cannot  exceed  eighteen  or  twenty 
days, — the  young  birds  run  the  moment  they  clip  the  shell  ;  and 
it  is  stated  by  jMr.  Audubon,  I  doubt  not,  correctly,  that  at  six 
weeks'  old,  they  are  strong  and  quick  on  the  wing.  According 
to  this,  there  should  be  many  birds  well  on  the  wing  early  in 
April  ;  and  from  all  we  know  of  the  growth  of  these  birds,  no 
difference  beinjr  manifest  after  the  August  moult  between  the 
old  and  young,  these  should  be  fully  equal  to  the  parents  in  size 
on  the  first  of  July. 

I  have  myself  no  doubt,  that  the  Woodcock  regularly  breeds 
twice,  and  sometimes  thrice  a  season,  although  it  is  certain  that 
ycung  birds  of  two  different  sizes,  and  consequently  different 
hatchings,  are  never  found  in  July  with  the  same  parents, 

It  occurs  to  me,  but  I  cannot  be  sure  of  the  fact,  as  I  only 
speak  from  vague  recollection,  that  in  the  few  cases  where  it  is 
possible  to  be  assured,  that  all  the  birds  killed  are  of  tme  brood, 
— as,  for  instance,  in  small  hill-swales,  and  the  like,  containing 
one  resting-place — I  have  never  seen  above  one  old  bird  with 
the  brood.  In  adverse  seasons — the  worst  of  which  are  those 
which,  after  a  favorable  and  early  spring,  become  cold  and  wet 
in  May  and  June, — when  the  first  brood  is  destroyed  by  floods, 
the  old  birds  do  unquestionably  breed  a  second  time,  and  hatch 
a  very  late  brood,  so  late  as  to  the  middle  of  July.  And  of  this, 
I  think,  the  following  anecdote  will  be  held  sufficient  proof  and 
confirmation. 

This  anecdote  was  published  by  mo  some  two  or  three  yeais 
since,  in  the  columns  of  a  leading  monthly  magazine,  in  connec- 
tion with  a  number  of  remarks  concerning  the  habits  of  the 
Woodcock,  on  some  of  which  I  have  since  been  led  to  alter  my 
opinion.  I  was,  at  that  time,  inclined  to  believe  that  the  parent 
birds  retained  several  broods  of  young,  of  different  sizes,  about 
them  ;  but  I  am  satisfied  that  this  view  of  the  case  was  errone- 
ous, and  was  induced  by  the  accident  of  two  or  more  broods 
having  come  in  contact,  as  is  perpetually  the  case  on  well 
stocked  ground,  under  the  care  of  only  one  parent  bird  coc/i. 


'"Mks 


172 


FRANK    forester's    FIELD   SPORTS. 


I 


Tlie  only  way  to  verify  the  facts  satisfiictorily,  would  lie  to  mark 
down,  in  the  daily  return  of  game  killed,  the  number  of  old  birds 
in  proportion  to  young,  and  to  ascertain  the  sex  of  the  former 
by  dissection.  The  female  bird,  it  is  true,  is  somewhat  the  lar- 
ger ;  but  it  is  not  safe  to  reckon  on  the  eye,  or  even  on  the 
senior  for  the  doteraiination  of  the  sex.  By  the  way,  I  conceive 
that  there  must  be  some  error  in  the  printing  of  Mr.  Audubon's 
statement  concerning  this  relative  disproportion.  He  states  the 
weight  of  the'male  bird  at  6}  oz.,  which  appears  to  me,  beyond 
all  question,  inadequately  low, — and  that  of  the  female,  at  8  j  oz. ; 
while  in  length  the  female  exceeds  the  male  only  by  j^  of  an 
inch.  This  difference  is  inconceivable,  not  to  say  impossible. 
The  imderstatement  of  the  male  Woodcock's  weight  struck  me 
at  first  sight  ;  and  I  endeavored  to  account  for  it  to  myself,  by 
supposing  that  Summer  Cock  had  been  assumed  as  the  base  of 
calculation.  I  presume  now,  that  6}  oz.  is  a  typographical  er- 
ror for  8 1  ;  which  I  should  have  stated,  if  asked  suddenly,  as 
about  the  average  weight  of  a  full-grown  Woodcock.  The  bird 
from  which  the  accompanying  wood-cut  was  taken,  shot  by  my- 
self on  the  23d  of  October,  1843,  weighed  9|  oz.,  measured  13 
inches  from  bill  to  claw,  and  18  from  wing  to  wing  extended  ; 
but  this  was  an  uncommonly  large  bird.  I  have,  however, 
heard  of  their  being  killed  up  to  11  oz.  Once  for  all,  it  appears 
to  me  that  Mr.  Audubon  understates  the  weight  of  his  game 
birds  generally.  The  coming  season  I  will  carry  a  small  scale 
in  my  jacket  pocket,  and  would  earnestly  urge  it  on  every 
sportsman  to  do  the  same.  They  can  be  obtained  at  any  tackle 
shop,  and  will  weigh  up  to  10  or  12  lbs.,  being  as  portable  as  a 
common  pencil-cnse. 

A  few  years  since — I  think  it  was  in  1841 — there  was  a  deep 
fall  of  snow,  covering  the  greater  part  of  the  State  of  New  York, 
near  eighteen  inches  deep,  so  late  as  the  12th  or  15th  of  May. 
It  thawed,  of  course,  immediately,  and  produced  a  complete  in- 
undation, the  early  spring  having  been  rather  uncommonly  dry. 
From  this  I  augured  ill  fcr  the  prospects  of  the  shooting  season. 
But  fine  weather  followed,  and  by  most  persons  the  Spring  snow- 
storm and  freshet  were  forgotten 


UPLAND   SHOOTING. 


173 


I"  'W3 


On  the  first  of  July  I  went  with  a  friend,  a  gootl  shot  and  ea- 
ger sportsman,  to  a  favorite  shooting  ground,  in  Orange  county, 
N.  Y.,  on  a  part  of  which — for  it  had  a  very  huge  range,  and 
contained  many  varieties  of  lying — we  had  bagged  on  tlie  j)re- 
vioiis  year  a  hundred  and  twenty-five  birds  in  a  single  day's 
shooting. 

We  shot  the  first  day  on  the  low  meadows,  and  killed  hardly 
any  V)irds ;  not,  to  the  best  of  my  recollection,  above  ten  or  a 
dozen,  in  a  severe  day's  walking.  They  were  well  grown  birds, 
but  not  a  single  old  one  in  the  number.  My  companion,  greatly 
annoyed,  insisted  that  the  ground  had  been  hunted  before  that 
season,  and  all  the  birds  killed  off,  except  the  handful  that  we  had 
found.  From  this  conclusion  I  dissented,  arguing  that  if  such 
had  been  the  case,  we  should  have  found  old  birds,  the  young 
being  the  easier  both  to  find  and  to  kill,  especially  for  cockney 
sportsmen,  who  alone  may  be  presumed  to  hunt  before,  that  sea- 
son. My  friend  grew  almost  angry,  and  asked  me,  "  Where, 
then,  are  the  birds  V  I  answered,  "  Wait  till  to-morrow  even- 
ing, when  we  shall  have  beat  our  other  ground,  and  I  will  tell 
you." 

The  next  day  we  did  beat  the  other  gi'ound  ;  wet  swales,  and 
sloping  woods  of  small  extent  in  valleys  watered  by  little  stream- 
lets from  the  hills.  The  result  was  the  same,  a  wretched  day's 
sport,  and  no  old  birds,  or  at  least  hardly  any. 

As  usual,  each  held  his  own  position  ;  my  friend  again  asked, 
"  How  do  you  account  for  this  1"  I  replied,  "  All  the  young 
broods  have  been  destroyed  by  the  freshet,  except  the  very  few 
which  got  off  before  the  May  flood.  This  accounts  for  the  few- 
ness of  the  birds,  and  for  the  uncommon  size  of  those  few.  The 
old  birds  are  now  hatching  their  second  broods  on  the  ridges  and 
hill  sides.  I  will  show  you  that  I  am  right,  to-morrow."  And 
to-moiTow  I  did  show  him  that  the  ridges  and  sapling  coverts — 
sprouts,  as  the  country  people  call  them — were  full  of  old  birds, 
hovering,  and  no  young  ones. 

Still  my  companion  was  incredulous  as  to  the  second  broods, 
until  in  the  aftenioon,  as  I  was  passing  through  a  little  clump  of 


\:    -it 


il  M. 


i 


174 


FRANK    FORESTi;u's    FIELD    SPORTS. 


aiders,  not  ahove  two  or  three  yards  square,  I  fliislicd  a  l»lrd 
which  flow  out  to  liim.  Ho  fired.  I  called  out  to  enquire  whe- 
ther ho  had  killed,  and  as  ho  answered  "  yes,"  I  heard  the  bird 
flapping  its  wings  on  tho  ground,  in  the  death-struggle,  as  I  ima- 
gined. Knowing  that  he  could  recover  tho  bird,  in  tho  open 
ground,  I  beat  out  the  thicket  thoroughly,  and  left  it,  sntisfied 
that  it  contained  no  other  bird,  though  I  had  some  dithculty  in 
getting  one  of  my  Setters  away  from  what  I  sujiposed  to  be  a 
field  mouse.  On  joining  my  friend,  he  told  me  that  the  bird  had 
flapped  up,  when  he  was  in  the  act  of  laying  his  hand  upon  it, 
and  had  staggered  away,  seeming  every  moment  on  the  point  of 
falling,  so  that  he  did  not  care  to  fire  at  it  again,  until  it  got  out 
of  shot;  but  that  he  had  marked  it  down  to  a  yard,  in  a  thick 
brush  fence,  three  or  four  hundred  yards  away.  On  going  to  the 
place,  the  dogs  took  the  scent  readily ;  but,  wliile  they  were 
ti'ailing  it,  the  bird  rose,  a  hundred  yards  off,  flapping  and  stag- 
gering about,  as  if  severely  hurt ;  and  flew  some  three  or  four 
hundred  yards  farther  from  the  thicket  in  which  we  first  staited 
it,  and  dropped  again  in  a  piece  of  thick  hill-side  coppice.  I 
marked  the  bird  accurately  by  the  top  of  a  pine  tree,  and  oft' we 
set  in  pursuit,  I  more  than  half  suspecting  that  the  bird  was  un- 
wounded.  Scarce  had  we  entered  the  covert,  when  up  whizzed 
the  identical  bird  fresh  and  sound,  from  the  very  brake  in  which 
I  had  marked  him,  and  away  like  a  bullet  through  the  -tree  tops. 
So  thoroughly  convinced  was  I,  that,  though  I  could  have  killed 
the  bird  with  ease,  I  would  not  fire  at  it ;  but  to  convince  my 
still  doubting  friend,  we  walked  back  to  the  little  tuft  in  which 
we  first  sprung  the  cock  ;  he  promising  not  to  fire  if  we  should 
again  flush  her.  My  dogs  were  not  well  in  the  alders  before 
the  bird  rose  again,  and  was  going  away  at  her  best  pace,  when 
my  friend's  shot  stopped  her,  to  my  infinite  disgust.  He  is  a 
very  quick  shot,  and  in  the  excitement  of  the  moment  forgot 
everything  except  the  game  and  the  fury  of  pursuit. 

Almost  at  the  same  moment,  old  Chance — ^he  was  the  best  re- 
triever I  ever  saw  in  any  country — picked  up  from  the  spot 
where  I  had  supposed  he  was  snuffing  after  a  field-mouse 


I  I 


UPLAND   SIIOOTINn.  175 

u  young  tlowny,   unfledged  Woodcock,  less  tluin   two   indies 
long. 

Cliance  would  cnrry  a  Imrt  bird  by  the  tip  of  liis  winjr,  with- 
out ruflling  a  featlier  ;  and  tliougli  it  will  hardly  be  believed,  I 
took  the  little  fledrrlinjr  from  his  mouth  unharmed,  and  had  the 
satisfacticm  of  seeing  him  nui  away  briskly,  and  hide  himself 
behind  a  dock-leaf. 

That  day  wo  shot  no  moi'c,  nor  indeed  that  snmmer  ;  but 
before  wc  left  Orange  county,  I  went  again  to  the  same  brake 
with  the  old  dog,  but  without  a  gun,  and  Hushed  what  I  presume 
to  have  been  the  male  bird,  which,  by  its  simulated  cri))pled 
flight,  again  drawing  me  away  from  the  spot,  convinced  me  that 
he  was  watching  over  his  motherless  little  ones. 

Had  I  needed  anything  to  convince  me  that  Woodcock  ought 
not  to  be  shot  in  July,  that  scene  would  have  convinced  me  ; 
and  since  that  day  I  have  never  ceased  to  advocate  a  change 
and  simjilification  of  our  game  laws,  which  .should  prohibit  the 
killing  of  Woodcock  until  the  first  day  of  October  ;  and  make 
that  one  day  the  end  of  close  time  ft)r  all  game  whatever. 

For  the  present,  however,  until  the  game  laws  shall  be  al- 
tered, and  established  on  a  more  reasonable  and  more  perma- 
nent footing,  of  which  T  flatter  myself  there  is  still  a  remote  hope 
left  to  the  true  sportsman,  there  is  nothing  left  but  to  make  the 
best  of  it, — to  take  the  field  ourselves,  with  the  rl  toXV.ci,  and 
do  our  best  at  the  slaughter  ;  nor  will  I  deny  that  there  is  much 
sport  in  it,  though  sport  which,  if  men  could  be  induced  to  fore- 
go it,  would  lead  to  such  results  in  autumn,  as  we  can  now  hardly 
imagine. 

This  interesting  little  bird,  being  pioperly  nocturnal  in  his 
habits,  is  rarely  or  never  seen  by  day,  unless  by  those  who  are 
especially  in  pursuit  of  him,  and  even  by  them  he  is  found  with 
difficulty,  unless  when  hunted  with  well  broke  dogs. 

At  nightfall,  however,  he  may  often  be  seen  on  the  wing, 
darting  athwart  the  gloom  from  the  dry  upland  coverts,  in 
which  at  many  seasons  he  loves  to  lie,  toward  his  wet  feeding 
grounds.     During  the  liours  of  darkness  he  is  on  the  alert,  con- 

VOL.   I.  14 


170 


FR\.\K    rOllESTKU's    FIELD    srOKTS. 


stantly  ;  Iiy  iiiyht  lit>  seeks  his  food;  by  iiiglit  he  makes  his 
Idii'j;  i'iikI  direct  inigrations,  clioosiiig  for  tliis  latter  puipose 
f  ig'^ry  woiither,  at  or  iiliout  tlic  full  of  the  moon. 

By  day  ho  lies  snugly  ensconced  in  some  lonely  brake, 
among  long  gniss  and  fern,  under  the  shade  of  the  dark  alder 
or  the  silvery  wilhtw,  and  neiir  to  souk;  marshy  level,  or  muddy 
streamh't's  l)rink  during  the  summer;  but,  in  the  autumn,  on 
some  dry  westering  hill-side,  clothed  with  dense  second-growth 
and  saplings. 

In  very  quiet  spots,  especially  where  the  covert  overhead  is 
dense  and  shadowy,  he  sometimes  feeds  by  day  ;  and  it  has 
been  my  fortune  once  or  twict;  to  come  uj)on  him  unsuspected 
when  so  engaged,  and  to  watch  him  for  many  minutes  probing 
the  soft  loam,  which  he  loves  the  best,  with  his  long  bill,  and 
drawing  forth  his  succulent  food,  fiom  the  smallest  red  wire- 
worm  to  the  largest  lob-worm,  suitable  for  the  angler's  bait 
when  fishing  for  Perch  or  the  Yellow  Bass  of  the  Lakes. 

It  is  by  the  abundance  of  this  food  that  his  selection  of  haunts 
is  dictated,  and  his  choice  of  seasons,  in  some  considerable  de- 
gree, controlled.  On  sandy  and  hungry  soils,  as  of  Long  Lsland, 
for  example,  he  is  found  rarely  in  comparison,  and  never  in  the 
large  congregations  which  so  rejoice  the  heart  of  the  sportsman 
in  more  favored  localities.  Still  more  does  he  eschew  soui 
mansli  land  and  peat  bogs,  wherein,  by  the  way,  the  worm  he 
most  affects  hardly  exists;  while  on  fat  loamy  bottom  lands, 
whether  the  color  of  the  soil  be  red  or  black,  rich  with  decom- 
posed vegetable  matter,  he  may  be  found  in  swarms. 

It  must  be  understood,  however,  that  after  the  young  brood 
have  left  the  parent  birds,  which  departure  occurs  after  the  first 
rioult,  the  Woodcock  is  a  solitary  bird,  acting  and  moving  for 
liimsclf  alone,  although  the  same  causes  may  draw  hundreds  of 
them  to  one  neighborhood,  and  never  flying  in  flocks  or  associa- 
ting in  anywise  with  his  fellows,  ujitil  the  commencement  of  the 
breeding  season. 

At  this  period  of  the  year,  from  July  I  mean,  to  the  begin 
iiing  of  the  moult,  when  the  bird  disappears  from  among  ua  for 


' 


I 


1 


UPLAND   SIIOOTINf!. 


177 


,(  'M 


i 


i 


a  while,  the  ynunuf  broods  aro  found  on  the  ground  in  which 
they  are  bred. 

And  fhcro  is  sciirccly  nny  sort  of  gi-ound,  in  which  the  aoil 
consists  of  bliick  vogctablo  mould,  or  rich  lonm  of  any  kind, 
and  in  wliich  tlioro  is  ji  siiflicicncy  of  water,  that  is  not  conge- 
nial to  liim  as  a  breeding  ])la('e — I  except  always  the  depths  of 
tiie  primeval  fore?<ts,  in  which  he  never  is  found. 

'riie  narrowest  ravines,  df)wn  which  the  merest  thread  of  wa- 
ter trickles  among  bare  gray  rocks,  provided  there  is  a  bed  of 
rich  succulent  soil  in  the  bottr»m  of  the  swale,  even  at  the 
height  of  SOO  feet  above  tide-water  will  hold  a  brood  or  two ; 
80  will  th(>  swampy  bogs  and  morasses  on  flu;  t()|w  of  the  high- 
est hills  ;  but  the  favorite  breedijig  ground  of  the  bird  is  un- 
doubtedly level  marsh  meadows,  interspersed  with  clumps  and 
thickets  of  willow  and  alder,  maple  groves,  growing  on  swampy 
land,  and  warm  sefpiestered  vallics. 

In  South- West  Jersey,  they  are  found  in  the  gieatest  al>an- 
dance  on  perfectly  f)pen  meadows,  among  bog  grass  and  nishes, 
in    exactly    what  would   usually  be   called    admirable   Snipe- 
grotuid  ;  and  I  have  killed  them  in  the  neighborhood  of  Salem, 
in  considerable  numbers,  where  there  was  nol   a  tree  or  bush 
within  half  a  mile.     This  approximation  of  habits  between  tlie 
two  kindred  species,  of  Snipe  and  Woodcock,  is  very  curious 
and  interesting — the  former  bird,  as  we  have  seen  above,  under 
certain  circumstances  and  in  peculiar  districts,  betaking  himself 
to  the  wooded  haunts  of  his  nearest  blood  relation,  and  the  lat- 
ter, when  in  a  treeless  country,  making  himself  at  home  among 
marshy  levels  better  adapted  to  the  general  habits  of  his  cousin. 
On  no  ground,  however,  have  I  ever  seen,  or  shall  I,  I  much 
fear,  ever  again  see  this  bird  in  such  multitudes,  as  on  what  are 
called  the  "Drowned  Lands"  in  Orange  county,  N.  Y.     These 
are  a  vast  tract  of  level  country,  surrounding  the  various  branch- 
es and  tributary  streams  of  the  Walkill — it  extends  many  miles 
in  length,  and  contains  every  sort  of  lying — tall  open  groves, 
impenetrable  fastnesses  of  brake  and  thicket,  wide  readies  of 
perfectly  ojjen  bog-meadow,  and  a*  wide  expanses  of  oi)en 


t  i 


178 


FRANK    I'OUESTKIl  S    KIELD    til'ullTS. 


plain,  covprnd  witli  licli,  tomlcr  griiHs,  niul  ititciMpoiHcd  at  every 
fow  puot'H  witli  briikes  of  aldrr.s,  iiiul  willow  liiislios.  Tlit'  iiiiin- 
bois  I  liavo  Hi'cii,  on  that  jf round,  are  iruri!(lil)U!.  In  18)0  I  Hliot 
over  if,  accompanii'd  by  my  friend,  Mr.  Ward,  of  Warwick,  who 
then  weighed  above  three  hundred  pounds,  and  mIioI  with  u 
single-l)arrelled  Westley  Richard's  gun  ;  and,  in  three  buccch- 
sive  days,  wo  bagged  fit>y-scven,  srvcnty-nine  and  nini'ty-eiglit 
Cock,  over  a  Hingle  brace  of  dogs,  not  beginning  to  slioot  until 
it  was  lato  in  the  morning.  On  tlie  following  year,  with  ii 
friend  from  New- York,  I  sliot  on  the  same  ground  all  day  the 
first,  and  imtil  noon  on  the  second  ;  bagging,  on  the  first,  one 
hundred  and  twenty-five  birds,  and,  on  the  second  morning, 
8(!V(!nty.  The  first  of  these  days  was  intensely  hot ;  and  tlio 
ground  became  so  much  foiled  by  running  of  the  innumerable 
birds,  that,  altliough  wo  liad  excellent  retrievers,  we  lost, 
beyond  doubt,  forty  or  fifty  birds  ;  and  at  four  in  tlie  afternoon 
we  were  entirely  out  of  ammunition. 

I  am  perfectly  satisfied  that,  if  we  had  been  provided  with  a 
brace  of  fresh  dogs,  at  noon,  with  clean  guns,  and  a  proper  sup- 
ply of  powder  and  copper  caps,  both  of  whicli  gave  out,  it 
would  have  been  perfectly  easy,  on  that  day  to  have  bagged 
from  one  hundred,  to  one  hundred  and  fifty  couple  of  Wood 
cock. 

The  shooting  on  that  ground  is  now  ended.  The  Erie  rail- 
road passes  witliin  ten  miles  of  it,  and  it  is  now  overrun  with 
city  poachers  and  pot-hunters ;  besides  being  shot  incessantly 
by  the  farmers'  boys  and  village  idlers  of  the  neighborhood 
whf)  have  begun  to  compete  with  the  New  York  vagabonds  ir 
supplying  the  markets  with  game. 

I  confess  that  I  have  often  wondered  that  the  owners  of  these 
tracts  have  not  had  the  shrewdness  to  discover  that  by  enforcing 
the  laws,  and  prohibiting  trespassers,  they  might  annually  let  the 
shooting  of  these  ranges  for  very  ccmsiderable  sums.  "  The 
Drowned  Lands  "  are  in  general  held  in  large  farms,  and  the  best 
shooting  is  all  owned,  comparatively  speaking,  by  a  very  few 
individuals.     I  have  not  the  slightest  hesitation  in  saying  that 


V   i 


' 


t 

V 


CPLANn   SIIOOTINO. 


179 


if  sf»mo  Imlf-dozen  or  eight  fiiimora,  whose  Innd  I  kridw,  would 
rosohitely  put  an  end  to  nil  shooting  on  their  premises,  they 
could  rcndily  let  the  right  of  shooting  to  an  ussociation  of  gen- 
tlemen, at  a  prieo  which  would  put  a  hundred  dollars  annually 
into  each  of  their  pockets. 

I  could  find  the  gentlemen  who  would  give  it,  nnd  he  hut  too 
gliid  of  the  opportunity  ;  and  who,  htoking  forward  to  enjoy- 
ment of  the  same  sport  in  future  years,  would  neither  wantonly 
annihilate  the  stock,  nor  do  the  mischief  to  the  grass  crops,  and 
fences,  which  continually  results  from  the  incursions  of  tho 
loafers  and  vngahorls,  who  compose  the  great  hulk  of  rural 
sportsmen.  I  really  should  greatly  rejoice  at  seeing  something 
of  this  soit  attempted.  Its  effect  would  he  most  beneficial  on 
the  preservation  of  game  generally  throughout  the  L'nited 
States. 

At  the  beginning  of  the  Woodcock  season,  l(»  revert  to  things 
as  they  now  are,  it  is  an  easy  matter  to  find  birds,  if  you  are 
in  a  good  country ;  and  in  truth,  except  in  tho  immediate 
vicinity  of  the  large  cities,  there  is  »io  difficulty  in  finding 
broods  enough  to  amuse  a  few  leis\ne  houis  ;  although  it  is 
daily  becoming  more  and  more  questionable  whether  it  is 
worth  the  while  of  dwellers  in  the  Atlantic  cities,  to  keep  dogs 
for  the  purpose  of  Cock-shootuM^,  and  to  make  excursions  some 
fifty  or  sixty  miles  inland  for  sport  during  the  season.  A  due 
regard  to  truth  compels  mt  to  say  that  such  excursions  have 
ceased  to  be  what  they  w  'ic,  "  conxule  Flavco,"  when  General 
Jackson  was  first  Piesident ;  yet  farther  inland  there  are 
doubtless  still  places  to  be  found  abounding  with  the  tribe  of 
Sco/opax;  althousjh  fn.m  the  "  IJig  Piece,"  and  the  "Little 
Piece,"  from  Chatham  and  the  "  Drowned  Lands,"  the  glory 
of  his  house  has,  for  the  most  j)art,  departed. 

In  July,  then,  there  is  ordinarily  but  little  skill  to  be  dis- 
played in  the  mere  act  of  finding  the  birds,  fi)r  there  is  nothing 
to  be  done  but  to  beat  the  ground  carefully,  thoroughly  and 
slowly,  whorcvor  there  is  water  and  covert.  Unless  the  brood 
of  the  season  has  been  annihilated  already,  or  the  ground  so 


Mil 


1]  t 


i'i.  : 


180 


FRANK    FORESTER  S    FIELD   SPORTS. 


persecuted  in  past  seasons  as  to  have  been  entirely  deserted 
by  tlie  breeders,  here  they  must  be  found.  In  this  country 
Woodcock  are  shot  altogether  over  Setters  or  Pointers — during 
tJie  whole  sixteen  years,  which  I  have  passed  in  the  States,  1 
1  ave  known  but  two  sportsmen  who  used  the  Cocking  Spaniel, 
1  hough  that  is  unquestionably  the  proper  dog  over  which  to 
iihoot  the  bird — and  it  is  obvious  that  there  are  many  objections 
to  be  made  to  these,  in  their  places,  noble  animals,  as  used  for 
covert-shooting.  The  proper  sphere  for  both  Pointer  and  Set- 
ter is  the  ojien — the  wide,  waving,  heathery  moors,  the  grassy 
Snipe-bog,  the  rich  russet  stubbles,  from  which  the  haiTcsts 
have  been  carnered  to  the  farmer's  heart-content.  To  ranire  as 
wide,  as  highly,  and  as  dashingly  as  they  can,  is  their  proper 
vocation,  and  their  highest  merit.  To  work  fairly  and  in  full 
view  of  their  master  and  of  one  another,  giving  plentiful  note 
of  the  vicinity  of  game  by  their  actions  to  the  eye,  but  none  to 
the  ear,  is  the  province  for  which  nature  destined  them,  as  all 
their  qualities  demonstrate. 

In  order  to  suit  them  for  wood-shooting  at  all,  one  of  these 
qualities  has  necessarily  to  be  drilled  out  of  them,  by  early  and 
incessant  rating,  watching  and  admonition — I  mean  their  speed, 
range  and  dash. 

The  highest  merit  a  thorough-bred  and  thoroughly-broke 
Setter  or  Pointer  can  possess  in  Europe,  on  his  proper  ground, 
and  in  pursuit  of  his  proper  game,  is  never,  unless  he  be  at  a 
dead  point,  or  down  to  charge,  to  be  within  five  hundred  yards 
of  his  master,  always  beating  his  ground,  head  up  and  stem 
down,  at  full  gallop.  Here  in  covert  at  least,  where  nine-tenths 
of  his  work  is  done,  his  highest  merit  is  never  to  be  twenty 
yards  distant  from  him. 

He  must  unlearn  his  own  nature,  and  acquire  that  of  the 
Spaniel ;  in  so  far,  at  least,  as  to  substitute  unwearied  industry, 
short,  continually-succeeding  turns,  and  the  closest  possible 
quarteiing  of  the  ground,  for  his  natural  rating  gallop.  His  eye 
must  be  constantly  on  his  master,  his  ear  ever  alive  to  his 
slightest    whistle,   which    he     must    obey   with    the   speed    of 


UPLAND    SHOOTING. 


181 


■ 


lij^ht.  He  must  be  prepared  to  back  his  fellow,  oftener  at 
the  word  "  Tolio!"  than  at  sight  of  his  point ;  for  so  difficult  is 
the  covert  in  which  his  duty  is  done,  that  I  have  more  than 
once  seen  three  several  dogs  standing  witliin  a  square  of  six 
yards,  on  one  bird,  not  one  of  which  suspected  his  comrade's 
presence.  Again,  he  must  be  bntke  to  drop  where  he  is  when 
the  shot  is  discharged,  instantaneously,  and  to  lie  there  until 
commanded  to  "  Seek  dead  ;"  when  he  must  draw  up  t(j  the 
killed  bird,  point  it,  and  at  the  word  "  Fetch,"  perform  the 
duty  of  a  retriever. 

This  it  is,  which  makes  a  really  fine,  and  thoroughly  broke, 
Woodcock  dog  so  nearly  invaluable. 

Shooting  as  we  do  in  this  country  in  thickets  overrun 
with  vines,  creepers,  and  cat-briars,  to  which  the  densest  cop- 
pice or  covert  I  ever  have  seen  in  England,  was  open-work, 
and  that  too,  when  every  tree,  plant  and  shrub  is  covered 
with  its  most  luxuriant  summer  foliage,  it  is  evident  that  a 
dog  cannot  be  visible  half  the  time  at  a  distance  of  ten  paces ; 
and  that  it  is  only  by  his  keeping  in  constant  mtjtion  to  and  fro, 
close  before  us,  that  we  can  in  the  least  make  out  his  where- 
about. As  it  Is,  with  the  best  broke  dogs,  it  is  a  common  thing 
to  lose  them  altogether,  though  perhaps  but  fifteen  yards  off, 
when  pointing  steadily,  and  to  be  compelled  either  to  call  them 
off",  or  to  waste  half  the  day  in  looking  for  them. 

Another  great  difficulty  in  summer  Cock-shooting,  over 
Setters,  is  this,  that  when  the  bird  is  pointed,  as  he  almost 
universally  is,  from  the  outside  of  a  brake  inward,  it  is  almost 
impossible  to  get  a  fair  shot  at  him,  uidess  you  do  so  unsports- 
manlike a  thing  as  to  hie  your  dog  on,  and  make  liim  flush  his 
own  bird.  This  cannot  be  done  with  impunity  for  any  length 
of  time,  even  with  the  best  and  steadiest  dogs  ;  for  when  once 
they  have  become  used  to  this  irregular  mode  of  proceedin"-, 
although  they  may  stand  stock  still,  and  shew  as  staunchly  as 
possible,  under  their  master's  eye,  until  desired  to  "hie  on!" 
no  sooner  will  they  find  themselves  pointing  out  of  sight,  than 
they  will  follow  what  is  surely  the  bent  of  their  natural  instinct, 


I  I 


; 


182 


FRANK    FORESTEK  S   FIELD    SPORTS. 


kept  down  by  painful  instruction,  and  will  dash  in  and  flush 


tiieir  game. 


When  shooting  in  company,  as  one  always  should  do,  if  pos- 
sible, especially  in  July,  I  have  always  made  it  a  point,  when 
the  dogs  were  standing,  so  as  to  render  it  likely  that  the  shot 
would  be  a  ticklish  one,  to  call  up  my  comrade, — birds  lie  hai"d  in 
summer,  and  a  word  or  two,  more  or  less,  will  not  (lush  them, — 
to  place  him  in  the  most  commanding  position,  and  then  plunge 
into  the  brake,  taking  my  chance  for  a  snap  shot,  and  up  with 
the  bird  myse!f.  Having  always  kept  dogs,  and  having  shot 
principally  with  friends  who  did  not,  it  has  always  been  my 
luck  to  have  the  gamekeeper's  work,  and  to  be  forced  to  drive 
through  the  thick  of  the  tangle,  while  the  others  could  pick  their 
way  along  tlic  outskirts,  and  get  open  shots.  Somehow  or  other, 
however,  I  have  generally  managed  to  get  about  as  many  shots, 
and  perhaps  to  bag  about  as  many  birds  as  my  neighbors  ;  and, 
in  process  of  time,  I  have  got  into  the  way  of  liking  the  rough- 
and-tumble  inside-of-the-covert  work.  You  see  more  of  the 
dogs'  working,  and  get  more,  if  harder,  shots  ;  and,  above  all, 
you  acquire  what  is  the  knack  of  covert-shooting,  the  knack  of 
tossing  up  your  gun  instinctively  to  your  shoulder,  and  stopping 
your  biid  in  the  most  tangled  thicket,  without  knowing  how  you 
shot  him,  or  whether  you  saw  him  at  all  when  you  fired,  the  in- 
stant you  hear  a  flap  of  his  wing. 

Even  when  alone,  I  invariably  flush  my  own  bird,  never  order- 
ing my  dog  to  go  on,  even  at  the  risk  of  losing  a  shot ;  though 
the  chances  are,  that  you  can  generally  mark  the  bird  down  to- 
lerably well.  In  this  matter  I  never  vary,  and  I  do  most  strenu- 
ously urge  it  upon  all  sportsmen,  who  would  have  good  dogs, 
and  good  sport,  to  neglect  and  sacrifice  all  individual  shots,  all 
individual,  ciippled,  or  killed  birds,  rather  than  do  a  wrong  thing 
tliemselves  before  their  dogs,  or  allow  them  to  do  a  wrong  thing 
uncorrected. 

By  running  in  to  catch  one  wing-tipped  bird,  racing  away 
from  your  dogs,  or  by  encouraging  them  to  run  in  and  fetch, 
before  you  have  loaded,  you  will  lose,  in  all  probabiRty,  fifty 


UPLAND   SHOOTING. 


183 


birds, — ^by  your  setter  getting  into  the  way  of  dashing  into  the 
midst  of  scattered  bevies,  and  Hushing  them  all,  one  by  one, 
while  you  are  standing  with  your  unloaded  gun  in  your  liand, 
roaring  down-charge,  and  uttering,  if  you  are  a  little  quick- 
tempered, all  sorts  of  imprecations  against  your  poor  dog, 
which,  if  at  all  just,  you  would  fulminate  against  yourself.  No- 
thing is  more  annoying  to  me,  than  to  bo  joined  by  some  coun- 
try gunner  in  the  field,  who,  utterly  unconscious  of  wrong,  per- 
sists in  doing  things  which  make  your  own  hair  stand  on  end, 
and  compels  you  to  Hog  the  unhappy  quadrujjcds  for  the  faults 
of  the  stupid  biped. 

While  speaking  on  this  subject,  1  will  quote  an  obsei"vation 
which  I  met  with  the  other  day,  in  a  ciipi'^al  book,  by  a  right 
good  sportsman,  entitled — the  book,  not  the  man — "  The  Moor 
and  the  Loch."  The  truth  and  force  of  the  remark  sti-uck  me 
the  moment  I  read  it ;  and,  although  it  is  not  new  to  the  accom- 
plished sportsman,  or  old  dog-breaker,  I  think  I  have  never  seen 
it  in  print  before  ;  and  I  am  sure  I  have  seen  the  fault  it  repre- 
hends committed  a  hundred  times. 

The  writer  is  sjieaking  of  "  the  inveterate  habit,  contracted 
through  bad  breaking,  of  running  in  when  the  bird  drops.  This 
trick  is  acquired  from  the  breaker's  carelcssnes  ,  in  not  always 
making  the  dog  fall  down  when  birds  rise,  a  rule  which  should 
never  be  neglected,  on  any  pretence."  Mr.  Colquhoun  here 
means,  that  the  dog  should  be  taught  to  charge,  on  the  bird  ris- 
ing, whether  shot  at,  or  not  ;  and  unquestionably  he  is  right  in 
the  matter.  "  The  stcaditms  of  a  dog,"  he  proceeds,  "  whethtt 
old  or  l/oung,  depends  entirely  upon  its  being  rigidly  observed.  1 
have  seen  dogs  most  unmercifully  flogged,  and  yet  bolt  with  the 
same  eagerness  every  shot.  It  is  easy  to  see  the  reason  ;  the 
do"-  was  followed  by  the  keeper  endeavoring  to  make  him 
*  down' ;  there  was  thus  a  race  between  them,  which  should  first 
reach  the  fallen  bird.  The  plan  to  adopt  with  a  dog  of  this  de- 
scription, is  when  the  Grouse,"  or  other  game,  "  drops,  and  the 
dog  ruslies  forward,  never  to  stir, — coolly  allow  him  to  tear 
away  at  the  game  until  you  have  loaded  ;  by  which  time  he 


184 


FKANK   FORESTER  S    FIELD   SPOIiTS. 


I      i 


will  most  probably  have  become  ashamed  of  himself.  You  will 
then  walk  up  most  deliberately,  and  without  noticing  the  bird, 
take  the  dog  by  the  ear,  and  pull  him  back  to  where  you  fired, 
all  the  time  giving  him  hearty  shakes" — /should  say,  cuts  with 
the  whip, — "  and  crying  'down,'  when  you  get  to  the  sjiot 
where  you  shot  from,  take  out  your  whip,  and  between  the 
stripes  call  '  duwn,'  in  a  loud  voice  ;  continue  this  at  intervals 
for  some  time  ;  and,  even  when  you  have  finished  your  discipline, 
don't  allow  the  dog  to  rise  for  ten  minutes  at  least;  then,  after 
speaking  a  few  words  expressive  of  caution,  take  him  slowly  up 
to  the  bird,  and  lift  it  before  Ids  nose.  If  this  plan  is  rigidly 
followed  for  several  shots,  I  never  saw  the  dog  that  would  con- 
tinue to  run  in." 

The  writer,  it  will  be  observed,  is  here  speaking  of  running 
in  to  eat  or  tear,  not  to  "fetcli"  his  bird  ;  that  being  a  practice 
never  taught,  or  allowed,  to  Pointers  and  Setters  in  England, 
simply  because,  being  used  altogether  in  the  open  field,  it  is  as 
needless  there,  as  it  is  necessary  here.  When  I  first  came  to 
this  country,  I  imported  a  fine  young  Setter  pup,  which  I  had 
broke  by  Mr.  Sandford,  of  Newark,  whom  I  consider,  in  all 
respects,  the  best  and  most  intelligent  dog-breaker  I  ever  saw, 
and,  on  conversing  with  him  on  the  mode  of  breaking,  I  was 
equally  surprised  at  learning  two  things, — that  Setters,  or  Point- 
ers, were  invariably  broke  to  "Jctc//,"  or  retrieve  dead  birds ; 
and  that  they  were  always  taught  to  "  come  in"  before  charg- 
ing. I  was  exceedingly  incrediilous  on  the  first  point  ;  and  it 
was  only  with  reluctance,  and  after  seeing  the  steadiness  with 
which  his  dogs  first  charged,  then  pointed  dead,  and  then  fetched, 
that  I  consented  to  allow  "  Chance"  to  be  broke  to  retrieve.  On 
the  other  point  I  was  firm  ;  and  Mr.  Sandford  having  broken 
that  dog  for  me,  to  drop  to  shot,  on  the  spot,  without  coming  in, 
was  so  thoroughly  convinced  of  its  advantage,  in  giving  steadi- 
ness, in  avoiding  unnecessary  words  and  orders,  and  in  render- 
ing the  dog  promptly  obedient,  that  he  at  once  adopted  the  me- 
thod, and  has  never  broken  a  dog  otherwise  since  that  time. 

I  must  add,  that  I  am  equally  well  satisfied,  that  to  retrieve 


UPLAND   SHOOTING. 


185 


is  a  necessary  accomplishment  for  a  Setter  or  Pointer  in  this 
country  ;  that  it  would  be  an  advantage  everywhere  ;  and  that 
a  dog  can  be  precisely  as  steady  fetching  every  bird,  as  he  can 
if  incapable  of  so  doing. 

But  he  must  invariably  be  made,  not  only  to  down-charge, 
but  to  point  dead,  before  he  is  allowed  to  fetch.  If  the  second 
duty  is  neglected,  it  will  be  a  very  little  while  before  the  ani- 
mal begins  to  rush  in  at  every  shot,  without  charging. 

One  great  difficulty  here  is,  that  no  one  in  America  having 
gamekeepers,  the  hunting  of  the  dog,  so  soon  as  he  is  turned 
out  of  the  breaker's  hands,  falls  directly  on  the  master — who  is 
very  generally,  even  if  himself  a  very  2)assably  good  shot,  unac- 
quainted with  the  methods  of  dog-breaking,  and  unqualified  by 
his  habits  of  life,  for  taking  the  trouble  of  going  systematically 
to  work  with  the  animal,  so  as  to  keep  him  up  to  all  that  he 
knows,  and  to  prevent  him  from  either  acquiring  new  bad  tricks, 
or  neglecting  his  old  teachings.  It  is  scarcely  too  much  to  say, 
that  one  half  of  the  dogs  in  the  United  States,  which  go  out  of 
the  breaker's  into  the  master's  hands  valuable  brutes,  are,  at  the 
end  of  twelve  months,  worthless. 

I  should  strongly  recommend  young  sportsmen,  when  pur- 
chasing new  dogs,  to  take  an  opportunity,  if  possible,  of  seeing 
them  himted  several  times  by  the  breaker,  and  of  endeavoring 
to  obsene  his  peculiar  modes  of  speech  and  action  with  the  dog  ; 
and  at  all  events  to  learn  those  points  of  education,  on  which 
he  insists,  in  order  that  they  may  guide  themselves  in  their  own 
conduct  toward  the  animal  tliereby,  and  insist  on  the  animal 
acting  in  all  respects  up  to  his  previous  teaching.  Old  sports- 
men, of  course,  have  their  own  ways  of  having  their  dogs 
trained,  and  on  these  they  are  so  trained  Ixfore  buying  them. 
Another  thing  is  worthy  of  observation — a  dog  never  ought  to 
be  lent.  I  would  not  lend  my  dog  to  a  better  sportsman  than 
myself — because  no  two  sportsmen  hunt  their  dogs,  as  I  have 
observed,  exactly  alike,  and  I  wish  my  dog  to  hunt  as  I  want 
him  to  hunt,  not  better  than  he  docs,  nor  worse.  It  is  impossi- 
ble to  imagine  tJie  dilference  of  the  intelligence  of  two  dogs, 


'I'll 

r''1 


'i:^ 


*ll 

i 

li 


)t 


I  f, 


W-  !; 


;  ■  , 


I*     I 


!i  .    t 


186 


FRANK    FORESTER  f?    FIELD    SPORTS. 


equally  good  by  nature,  the  one  of  which  has  never  been  hunted 
but  by  ono  master,  and  the  other  by  every  one  whom  he  has 
been  pleased  to  follow. 

I  have  taken  the  opportunity  of  making  these  observations 
on  dog-breaking,  and  dog-hunting,  in  this  place,  because  in 
Biunmer  Woodcock  shooting,  above  any  other  phase  of  the 
sport,  an  implicit  obedience,  great  steadiness,  and  perfect 
staunchness  is  required  in  the  dog.  In  Quail,  or  Snipe-shooting, 
you  can  see  your  dog  the  greater  part  of  the  time  ;  you  can 
obsci-ve  his  every  motion  ;  and  can  usually,  if  you  ai'e  quick- 
sighted  and  ready-witted,  foresee  when  he  is  about  to  commit  a 
fault  in  time  to  check  him.  In  summer  shooting,  woe  betide 
you,  if  you  entertain  so  wild  a  hope.  You  hunt  darkling, 
catching  sight  of  your  four-footed  companion  only  by  snatches, 
often  judging  him  to  be  on  the  point,  because  you  have  ceased 
to  hear  the  rustle  of  his  sinuous  movement  through  the  bushes  ; 
or  because  you  have  not  seen  his  form  gliding  among  the  water- 
flags  or  feni,  so  recently  as  you  should  have  done,  had  he  turned 
at  his  regular  distance,  and  quartered  his  ground  without 
finding  game.  It  is  not  once  in  ten,  nay  !  in  twenty  times,  that 
you  sec  him  strike  his  trail,  draw  on  it,  become  surer,  and  stand 
stiff.  You  lose  him  for  a  moment,  look  for  him,  cohere  heovgitt 
to  he,  and  find  him  because  he  is  there,  pointing  as  you  expected. 
A  step  or  two  forward,  with  your  thumb  on  the  hammer,  and 
the  nail  of  your  forefinger  touching  the  inside  of  your  trigger- 
guard.  Still  he  stands  steady  as  a  rock ;  and  you  know  by 
t\\e  glare  of  his  fixed  eye,  and  the  frown  of  his  steadfast  brow, 
and  the  slaver  on  his  lip,  that  the  skulking  Cock  is  within  ten 
feet  of  his  nose,  perhaps  within  ten  inches.  You  kick  the  skunk- 
cabbages  v  ith  your  foot,  or  tap  the  bunch  of  cat-briars  with  your 
gun-muz/le,  and  flip-flap  !  up  he  jumps,  glances,  half-seen  for 
a  second,  between  the  stems  of  the  alder  bushes,  and  is  lost  to 
sight  among  the  thick  foliage  of  their  dark  green  heads,  before 
your  gun-butt  has  touched  your  shoulder.  But  your  eye  has 
taken  in  his  line — the  trigger  is  drawn,  the  charge  splinters 
the  stems  and  brings  down  a   shower  of  erreen  leaves,  and 


UPLAND    SHOOTING. 


18i 


nmong  tlicm  you  fancy  that  you  have  seen  an  indistinct  some- 
tliing  falhng  helplessly  earthward — that  you  have  heard  the 
tlivd  of  his  tumhle  on  the  moist  ground.  Nevertheless,  anxious 
iilthoii'rl  you  bo,  and  doubtful  of  your  own  success,  you  stir 
not  fr(,iii  the  spot.  At  the  report  of  the  gun,  your  dog  couch- 
ed instantly ;  you  can  scarcely  see  him,  so  closely  has  he  charged 
among  the  water-grass,  with  his  nose  pressed  into  the  very 
earth  between  his  paws. 

You  drop  your  butt  ujion  the  toe  of  your  boot,  if  the  ground 
be  very  wet,  and  begin  to  load,  rapidly,  yet  coolly  and  delibe- 
rately.    Yes!  you  7«u't' killed  him  ;  you  may  see  tlie  feathers 
floating  yonder,  in  the  still  murky  air  of  the  windless  swamp. 
You  half-cock   your  locks,  and  ajiply  the  caps  ;  and,  expectant 
of  the  coming  order,  "  Don"  lifts  his  nose  wistfully.    "  Hold  up, 
seek  dead  !"  and  carefully,  gingerly,  as  if  he  were  treading  up- 
on eggs,  knowing  as  well  as  you  do  that  the  bird  is  dead,  and 
knowing  pretty  well  where  he  is,  at  a  slow  trot,  moving  his 
nose  from  this  side  to  that,  snuffing  the  tainted  air,  and  whip- 
ping his  flanks  with  his  feathered  stern,  lie  draws  onward  at  a 
slow  trot.     Now   he  has  caught  the  scent,  he  .straightens  his 
neck,   quickens  his  pace  a  little,   decidedly  and    boldly,  and 
stands  firm.     "  Good  dog  :    Fetch."     He  stoops,  picks  up  the 
dead  bird,  by  the  tip  of  the  wing  only,  and  brings  liim  to  you 
without  ruffling  a  feather.     How  conscious,  liow  happy,  liow 
perfectly  aware  that  he  has  merited  your  approbation,  that  you 
have  both  played  your  parts  handsomely,  as  he  hands  you  the 
trophy. 

Let  him  snuffle  at  it,  for  a  moment,  if  he  likes  it ;  he  would 
not  touch  it  with  a  tooth,  for  a  dog  kingdom  ;  but  the  scent  is 
to  him  what  the  aroma  of  a  glass  of  Lynch's  Chateau  Margaux 
of  '25  is  to  you, — let  him  enjoy  it,  he  shall  not  serve  you  the 
worse,  for  that  he  looks  for  his  reward. 

Here,  gentle  reader,  is  what  thou  art  expected  to  do  on  oc- 
casion. Do  It  thus,  always,  and  thou  ait  a  good  sportsman, 
and  a  crack  shot,  not  a  doubt  of  it.  Do  it  thus,  very  often  in 
one  day,  and  thou  art  having  a  right  good  day's  sport  of  it ; 


!     .M 


188 


FRANK    forester's    FIELD    SPOUTS. 


TOc)i  as  I  trust  I  may  have  many,  before  this  year  has  donned 
the  sear  of  the  hnf,  wbicb  is  not  as  yet  green. 

Jesting  Hjiart,  this  is  the  way  to  do  it,  hoth  as  regards  the 
flushing  nud  shooting  the  bird,  and  the  management  of  the  dog  ; 
and,  with  respect  to  the  last,  I  have  only  to  add,  that  while  it  is 
impossihle  to  be  too  resolute,  too  firm,  and  almost  impossiJiJo  to 
he  too  strict,  if  not  severe,  it  is  also  impossible  to  be  too  patient, 
too  deliberate,  or  too  q?/iff,  with  a  delinquent  dog.  The  least 
outbreak  of  temper  prostrates  its  own  object.  All  punishment 
aims  at  prevention.  If  you  distract  the  dog's  comprehension  of 
your  meaning,  the  object  of  the  punishment  is  lost.  Rcmem- 
bei',  too,  that  the  brute  knows  as  well,  whether  he  is  punished 
justly  or  unjustly,  as  you  do. 

A  quiet  rating,  and  a  gentle  pull  of  the  ear,  is  better  than  an 
intemperate  and  noisy  flogging  ;  but  when  you  do  flog,  let  it  be 
no  child's  play,  teasing  and  irritating  without  i)unislnng, — when 
you  do  flog,  flog  in  earnest. 

And  this  is  a  day's  summer  Cock-shooting, — a  re])etition  of 
this  that  I  have  described,  varied  by  those  thousand  little  un- 
foreseen incidents,  which  render  field  sports  so  charming  to 
every  sensitive  and  enthusiastic  sjiirit.  First  of  all,  it  is  pursued 
in  the  very  loveliest  summer  weather,  when  the  whole  atmo- 
sphere is  alive  with  all  sounds  of  merriment  and  glee, — it  is  fol- 
lowed among  the  wildest  and  most  romantic  combinati(ms  of 
rural  scenery — in  the  deep,  dim,  se<;luded  groves,  far  from  the 
ordinary  tread  of  man,  by  the  reedy  and  willow-girdled  mar- 
gins of  calm  inland  waters,  by  the  springy  shores  of  musical 
mountain  brooks,  in  long-retiring  valleys  high  up  among  the 
hills,  whence  we  look  forth  at  unexpected  turns  over  wide  tracts 
of  woodland  scenery — in  places  where  the  shyest  and  most 
timid  of  warblers  wake  their  wild  music  all  day  long,  screened 
by  impervious  umbrage  from  the  hot  noon-tide  of  July,  where 
every  foiTn  of  animal  life  and  beauty  abounds,  unbeheld  of  or- 
dinary mortals. 

And  are  not  all  tliese  things  a  source  of  pleasure  to  the  true 
woodsman  ?  Is  lie  not  necessarily  a  lover  not  of  sport  oidy,  and 


UPLAND   SHOOTING. 


189 


of  cxoitement — those  are  the  ruder  aiul  less  genial  attributes 
of  his  profession — iiut  a  lover  of  iiaturc  1  To  his  mere  success 
as  a  sportsman,  I  have  ah-eady  shown  that  a  knowletlgo  of  the 
liabits  and  instincts  of  animals  is  necessary  ;  and  let  a  man  once 
set  liimself  to  study  these,  and  lie  has  turned  ah'eady  the  first 
pajfo  of  natur.il  history  ;  and  so  enticing  is  the  study,  that  ho 
perforce  must  persevere.  And  none  can  study  natural  history, 
without  loving  nature,  Tlie  true  sportsman,  the  gcnth  sports- 
man, must  he  in  some  sort  a  poet — not  a  jingler  of  rhymes,  or  a 
cramper  of  English  words  into  strange  and  uncongenial  mea- 
sures, a  meter  of  syllal)les,  and  a  counter  of  fingers,  but  a  lover 
of  all  things  beautiful  and  wild — a  meditator,  a  muser  !  Ho 
must  be,  as  the  old  pastorals  were,  niimplidrum  fiigtcntiim  ama- 
tor ;  and  to  the  very  farthest  flight  of  their  coy  tootstej)s  must 
he  follow  them.  Were  it  not  for  this,  the  sportsman  were  but 
a  mere  skilful  butcher, — out  upon  it!  tlun'  be  better  things 
tlian  this  in  our  philosojihy  ! 

This  it  is,  with  the  sense  of  freedom,  the  sense  of  power,  of 
manhood,  of  unchained  and  absolute  volition,  which  we  feel 
when  our  foot  is  on  the  mountain  sod,  our  lungs  expanded  by 
the  mountain  air,  that  makes,  in  some  sort,  every  man  a  sports- 
m;m. 

And  then  the  noonday  repose  beneath  the  canopy  of  some 
dark  hemlock,  or  tall  pine,  still  vcjcal  widi  the  same  fitful  mur- 
mur which  jdcasured  in  Arcadia  the  ears  of  old  Theocritus — th(! 
dainty  morsel,  rendered  a  thousand  times  more  savory  than 
your  city  baiupiets,  by  the  true  Spartan  sauce  of  hunger,  the 
cool  di-aught  tempered  by  waters  cooller  and  clearer,  though 
perchance  less  full  of  inspiration,  than  the  lymph  of  Hippocrene  ; 
the  pleasant  converse  on  subjects  manifold,  over  the  mild  i'umcs 
of  the  composing  cigar, — or,  if  need  be,  the  camping  out  in  the 
wild  woods,  the  plying  of  the  axe  to  ftirm  the  temporary  slianty, 
the  kindling  of  the  merry  blaze,  the  rude  yet  api)eti/.ing  cook- 
ery, the  buoyancy  of  soul  caught  from  all  these  things,  the  un- 
tutored jest,  the  untaught  laughter;  and,  last  not  least,  com- 
posed on  the  fragrant  hemlock  tips,  which  strew  the  woodman's 


i! 


l!  Jl 


'I 


190 


FRANK    FORRSTER S    FIELD   SPORTS. 


couoli,  lulled  l)y  tlie  murmur  of  tlio  wind  in  tlio  never-silent 
tree  topn,  by  the  far  pliish  of  fiilliug  waters,  by  the  plniiitivo 
vvnilin'^  of  the  wliip-ponr-will,  and  the  joyous  revelry  of  the  ilew- 
drinking  katydids — the  sleep,  under  the  blue  vault  of  the  skii-s, 
guarded  by  the  winking  eyes  of  the  watchful  planc^ts  only, — 
fiweeter  and  sounder,  lighter  and  more  luxurious,  than  princes 
ratch  on  beds  of  eider-down  and  velvet. 

Lo  !  you  now,  reader,  have  not  we  too  caught  the  inspira- 
tion, and  ere  we  knew  it,  waxed  poetical  ! 

One  thing  alone  is  wanting  to  the  perfection  of  summer 
shooting  as  a  sport — I  speak  not  now  of  the  unfitness  of  the  sea- 
son for  hard  exercise, — no  season  is,  in  truth,  unfit  for  the  dis- 
play of  manhood  ! — nor  of  the  unfitness  of  the  half-grown  broods 
for  slaughter! — and  that  one  thing  is,  the  want  of  variety  in  the 
species  of  game  In  autumn,  hearty,  jocimd,  brown  autumn,  the 
woodman's  sport  is  indeed  manifold.  Even  when  his  dog  has 
pointed,  though  he  may  guess  shrewdly  from  the  nature  of  his 
movements  and  the  style  of  his  point,  the  sportsman  knows  not 
what  may  be  the  game  which  shall  present  itself  to  his  skill.  It 
may  be  the  magnificent  Ruffed  Grouse,  whining  up  with  a  ibit- 
ter  and  an  impetus  that  shall  shake  the  nerves  of  a  novice ;  it 
may  be  a  bevy  of  quail  eighteen  or  twenty  strong,  crowding 
and  jostling  one  another  in  their  anxiety  to  avoid  the  danger, 
and  distracting  his  aim  by  the  multiplicity  of  objects ;  it  may  be 
a  full-grown  white-fronted  Woodcock,  soaring  away  with  its 
sharp  whistle  high  above  the  tree  tops  ;  it  may  be  the  skulking 
Hare,  bouncing  among  the  kalmias  and  rhododendrons,  vulgarly 
generalized  as  laurels — they  might  as  well  be  called  cabbages ! 
—it  may  be  Teal  or  Wood-duck,  or  if  we  are  in  the  open,  it  may 
be  Snipe,  skin-ing  away  zig-zag  over  the  rushy  level. 

This  it  is  which  gives  so  strange  a  zest  to  the  field  sports  of 
an  American  autumn  day,  and  which  renders  the  autumn  shoot- 
ing of  this  country  the  wildest  and  most  interesting  of  any  it 
has  ever  been  my  luck  to  encounter — of  any,  I  presume,  in  the 
world,  unless  it  be  that  of  Northern  India,  on  the  lower  slopes, 
and  in  the  plains  at  the  foot  of  the  Himalayah  Mountains. 


rPLAND    SHOOTING. 


191 


And  witli  iIiIk  rnds  all  tlmt  is  to  be  sjiid  on  summer  Wood- 
cock shooting  ;  lor  tlio  jxiiiod  during  wliicli  tlio  sport  cnn  Ix! 
(ollowcd  is  of  ilst'll"  lii'ict',  not  liisnng — at  flic  utmost  not  iiliove  ii 
niontii  from  its  coinmcnccMTifnt  to  its  tcrmiiuitiou,  liy  i1r«  disiip- 
|i('iiianc('  of  tlio  l)irds  from  tlieir  usual  liaunts  in  tliis  section  of 
tlie  country.  ' 

Tliis  disappcariuicc  of  tlie  bird  is  one  of  tlie  most  mystriious 
and  iiic\plicui)le  feafures  in  tlio  natural  history  of  the  Wood- 
cock ;  and  what  is  v(;ry  remarkable,  it  is  not  in  anywise  no- 
ticed or  alluded  tn  by  any  naturalist  with  whoso  works  I  am 
accjuainted.  Neither  Audubon  nor  Wilson  appear  cognizant 
of  the  fact,  both  speaking  of  the  Woodcock,  as  if  it  tani(>d  with 
us  regularly  from  its  arrival  early  in  February,  until  its  depar- 
tun;  on  the  setting  in  of  severe  frost. 

That  this  is  not  the  case,  is  perfectly  well  known  to  every 
sportsman  in  the  country,  although  very  few  f)f  these  have  trou- 
bled their  heads  to  consider  the  circumstances  of  this  short  mi- 
gration, much  less  to  record  it.  The  fact  is,  that  so  soon  as  the 
young  birds  of  the  last  brood  arc  full-grown,  the  AVoodcock 
withdraws  for  the  purpose  of  moulting,  and  retums  no  more 
until  the  autumnal  frosts  have  set  fairly  in,  until  the  meadow 
grass  is  crisp,  and  the  leaves  sear.  A  lew  scattered  birds  in- 
deed linger  in  the  old  places,  just  enough  to  prove  that  there  is 
an  absolute  change  of  place  on  the  part  of  the  others  of  the  fa- 
mily, and  these  only,  it  is  probable,  in  consequence  of  some  ac- 
cidental  circumstance  which  has  detained  them,  such  as  the  late 
ness  of  tiieir  last  brood,  or  perhaps  an  unduly  early  moult  on 
their  own  part,  compelling  them  to  remain  trancpiil,  while  tlieir 
congeners  are  moving. 

At  all  events,  the  disappearance  of  the  main  body  is  sudden, 
total,  and  simultaneous.  So  much  so,  that  for  the  five  oi-  six 
earliest  years  of  my  residence  in  America,  when  matters  of  bu- 
siness prevented  me  from  absenting  myself  from  the  city  until 
the  first  of  August,  I  was  utterly  unaware  that  the  "  Drowned 
Lands"  of  Orange  county  ever  held  many  Woodcock,  although 
r  was  in  the  luibit  of  passmg  my  summers  in  that  immediate 
VOL.  I.  15 


w 


f.;5 

u. 


!i 


ji 


I,    i' 


b.   i 


h     1 


i:  i 


ii; 


192 


FPANK    I'OKF.STKU  S    FIELD    Sl'onTS. 


vicinity,  1111(1  liiid  liriit  tlio  very  gmutul  on  which  I  hnvo  Hubne- 
<|iu>iifly  killed    Iniinlit'ds,   witliout  getting  iiln»vo    half-a-dn/CD 

sIldtM. 

Tt  is  ill  tlio  liiHt  week  of  July,  or  the  first  of  Aiij,niHt,  thiit  this 
disappearance  (»f  flu-  Cock,  wlicthcr  from  the  hill-swales,  tho 
larirer  valleys,  oi-  the  level  meadows,  takes  place;  and  after 
this  until  the  first  week  in  Octolier,  it  is  us«'less  to  hunt  for 
them.  A  few  birds  can,  it  is  true,  nt  all  times  he  procured, 
enough  to  furnish  a  dainty  for  a  sick  frieixl,  or  perhaps  at  a 
hard  pinch  to  try  a  doy^ ;  hut  certainly  not  enough  to  render  it 
agreeable,  or  worth  the  while  to  go  out  in  pursuit  of  them. 
Another  fiict,  going  to  prove  that  there  is  an  absolute  disaj)- 
penrancc  or  emigration  of  the  bird,  nt  this  season,  is  that  on 
their  return,  tlu>y  conu!  in  successive  llights,  tarrying  each  a 
longer  or  shorter  time,  according  to  the  circumstances  of  tlie 
weather,  and  then  passing  onward.    This  is,  1  think,  conclusive. 

When  first  I  began  to  sj)ort  in  this  country,  some  sixteen 
years  ago,  tluwe  were  two  theories  cuircnt  among  sportsmen, 
whereby  to  account  fiu'  the  fact,  that  in  woods,  where  the  birds 
swarmed  in  July,  they  were  liardly  to  be  found  in  August. 
Both  theories,  as  I  have  proved  to  my  own  satisfaction,  are 
untenable  and  groundless. 

The  first  was  this — "  That  the  bird  did  not  in  truth,  disappear 
at  all,  but  remained  on  his  old  gnmnd  ;  though,  owing  to  the 
fact  of  his  being  in  moult,  he  gave  out  no  scent  whereby  the 
dog  could  detect  him  ;  and  from  sickness,  or  inability  to  fly 
with  his  wonted  velocity,  refused  to  rise  before  the  tread  of  his 
intruding  enemy,  the  man." 

This  theory  is  answered  in  a  word.  The  Woodcock,  while 
in  moult,  iJoc.i  give  out  as  much  scent,  ii  jxiinted  as  readily  by 
dogs,  (]ors  rise  as  willingly  befi)re  the  point,  and  is  as  good 
upon  the  table  as  at  any  other  season.  Facts,  which  are  easily 
proved;  since,  although  the  great  mass  of  birds  withdraw 
during  August,  and  do  not  return  befi)re  October,  a  few  do  still 
tarry  in  their  old  swamps,  and  may  be  fitund  and  shot,  though 
so  few   in   number,  and   at  so  great  an  expense  of  time  and 


Ii 


UI'LAND   SIIOOTINO. 


193 


I  !  '! 


while 
htVily  liy 

lis  jfooci 
l-e  easily 
titlulvaw 
tlo  still 
though 
ime  aiid 


liil)i)r,  nH  to  I'Midor  tlio  pursuit  of  tlioin  toilsome;,  auJ  prodiintivc 
only  of  wcurint'SH  and  disappointun'Ut. 

I  have,  howovor,  killed  tlii-m  ri'poatcdly,  w'lilc  ^ndcavorint; 
t(»  s:itisfy  mysflf  of  tlie  (iicts  which  I  iio\"  asst'r\  .-;o  dci>|»  iu  tlie 
tnouh  llial  flicir  hod'ii's  havf  Immmi  aIiM"i  iKiUod,  and  lliat  tliry 
liavo  fluttered  up  fcrlily,  i'  id  -Mt'  n  lieavy  w'li'Ting,  on  wings 
divested  of  (iiu^-liiilf  ll.i»  '(iiil!  iVislhcrs  and,  in  that  stale,  I 
have  ohscrvcd  that  the  do'j-s  sim;,!  as  .MaiicMy,  an<l  at  a^'  great 
a  distanc(>  from  their  gan'c,  ii  i  jsual  ;  iid  tlial  flu'  liivds  took 
wing  as  freely,  thougli,  in  w.uh,  half  i'cpo'.Mic  t(.  fly. 

l>eyond  this,  it  is  sj-av- 1;  ncce.«'>:(iy  f<»  p'  Ii!'  "H  to  un  intc  I'i- 
pont  render,  that  if  ihi'  hlrls  still  'ay  <  '  sv.niiiis  on  tlieir  ■!<! 
ground,  however  scenfle'sy,  they  n)'  \y\u>i\  Oiit  yr.i.in-l  is 
huiiti'd  closely  hy  tvne-heiitini.r  and  iMil'j!''i 'ions  uoij",  !>e  oit'iici 
run  up,  or  turned  out  of  tlie  giaoi,  and  caught  <ii  the  mouth 
Bomctiines  ;  which  I  liave  nevor  ik.Mcvi  lo  h.ippen  iu  nil  my 
experience  of  the  field. 

The  other  theory  was  this,  wlilch  I  l-i>vo  heard  Insisled  or?  n- 
streiniously  as  the  former,  "  Tiiat  llio  Woodcock,  on  h«;giinhig 
to  moult,  hetakes  himself  to  tljc.  maizj  or  Indian  >  orn  *ci<!M, 
and  remains  there  unsuspected  until  the  rv^1\^>^  have  ho,:  Iku'si- 
ed,  and  the  cold  weather  has  set  in."  Tiiat  n  lesv  HCf)tteie<l 
Woodcock  may  be  found  in  v/Pt,  J'nv  mai/e-fiek's,  ih/  n;  ti-.u 
edge  of  woods,  is  true  ;  and  it  is  true,  iilsc.  that  tliey  feed  in 
such  situations  in  grc.it  r,und>ers,  dmifig  tiic  vlght,  previous  to 
their  removal ;  but  that  f'nov  are  \cv  to  uc  found  generally,  or 
for  any  number  of  consecu'ive  days  'u  weeks  in  .such  ground, 
is  an  utterly  incorr* .  i  ^.n/nise,  disproved  by  long  experience. 

I  have  applied  i.-iyself  larefuliy  to  the  inve.stigatitm  of  this 
circumsta»H;c  ;  luid  in  the  last  ten  years,  have  certaiidy  beaten  a 
thousa'.i  »  nia;/.e-fields  thoroughly,  with  a  brace  of  as  good  Set- 
ter! as  any  private  gentleman  possessed,  at  the  very  period 
when  farmers  would  tell  me  "they  were  as  thick  as  fowls  in  the 
corn-fields  ;  "  and  I  have  not  on  any  occasioTi  flushed  more 
than  three  birds,  in  any  one  field  ;  nor  have  I  killed  twenty- five 
on  such  ground  altf)gether. 


104 


FRANK    forester's    FIELD   SrORTS. 


Somewhat,  I  must  confess,  to  my  surprise,  I  have  ohserved 
within  tlio  last  few  weeks,  a  long  and  somewhat  elaborate 
article,  in  the  columns  of  that  admirable  journal,  the  New- York 
Spirit  of  tlie  Times,  the  writer  of  which  apparently  (piitc  uncon- 
scious of  all  that  has  been  written  on  the  subject,  and  seeming' 
to  believe  that  he  has  made  a  discovery,  brings  out  anew  the 
old  corn-field  story.  The  matter  is  really  not  worth  talking 
cibout.  Every  school-boy  knows  that  late  in  July  and  August 
a  few  birds  occasionally  resort  to  wet,  woodside  maize-fields, 
and  every  one  who  has  shot  fifty  summer  Cock  in  his  life  ought 
to  know,  that  no  number  are  ever  to  be  found  in  them,  and  thai 
he  must  have  immense  luck  who  bags  a  dozen  Cock  in  all  the 
maize-fields  he  can  beat  in  a  hard  day's  walk.  I  would  like 
nothing  better  than  to  bet  season  in  and  out,  against  one  bird 
to  the  scjuare  acre — or  square  five  acres,  for  that  matter. 

I  think  the  reader  will  admit  that  the  two  theories,  alluded  to 
above,  are  by  these  facts  indisputably  controverted. 

And  now  I  must  expect  that  it  will  be  enquired  of  me, 
"  whither,  then,  do  they  go  1  What  does  become  of  them  1" 
To  winch  sage  questions  it  is,  I  grieve  to  say,  my  fate  to  be 
unable  to  make  satisfactory  reply. 

I  was  formerly  incUned  to  believe,  that  when  the  moult  is  at 
hand,  the  Woodcock  withdraws  to  tlie  small  upland  runnels, 
and  boggy  streamlets,  which  are  to  be  found  everywhere  among 
our  highest  hills  or  mountains.  That  the  moulting  season  is  the 
signal  for  dispersion,  and  the  termination  of  all  family  ties 
between  the  young  and  old  birds,  is  certain.  From  this  time 
forth,  until  the  next  February  brings  round  the  pairing  time, 
tlie  Woodcock,  whether  found  singly  in  a  solitary  j)lace,  or 
among  scores  of  his  kind,  is  still  a  lonely  and  ungregarious 
bird,  coming  and  going  at  his  own  pleasure,  without  reference 
— undemocratic  rascal — to  the  will  of  the  majority. 

In  corroboration  of  this  view  of  the  absence  of  our  bird 
during  the  early  autumn,  I  was  once  informed  by  a  gentleman 
whose  word  I  have  no  reason  to  disbelieve,  that  on  ascending 
once  to  the  summit  of  Bull  Hill,  one  of  the  loftiest  of  the  High- 


UPLAND   SHOOTING. 


19d 


lands  of  the  Hudson,  witli  the  intent  of  showing  the  fine  view 
thonce  to  fi  (;ity  friend,  he  found  the  hiushwood  on  the  barren 
and  rucliy  ledges,  and  even  on  the  crown  of  the  hill,  literally 
alive  with  Woodcock.  This  occurred,  according  to  his  state- 
ment, in  the  beginning  of  Sejiteniber,  when  no  birds  were  to 
be  found  in  the  level  and  wet  wodds  below.  He  farther  stated, 
that  he  at  first  intended  to  revisi  the  hill  the  next  day,  with  dog 
and  gun,  in  order  to  profit  by  his  discovery,  but  was  prevented 
doing  so  by  casual  circumstances,  until  the  frost  had  set  in 
keenly  in  the  woods.  He  then  climbed  the  hill,  and  beat  it 
carefully  with  dogs,  without  obtaining  one  point  to  reward  his 
labor ;  and  on  the  next  day  found  the  swamps  below  full  of 
birds. 

Not  vouching  for  the  truth  of  this  tale,  I  tell  it  as  'twas  told 
to  me  ;  the  teller  was  a  sportsman,  and  a  man  of  average  vera- 
city— that  is  to  say,  I  should  nave  been  inclined  to  believe  any 
fact  he  stated,  where  I  could  see  no  interest,  on  his  part,  which 
should  lead  him  to  attemjit  (hu'eption.  In  this  case  there  was 
no  such  reason ;  not  even  the  desire  of  prevailing  in  argument, 
for  we  were  not  arguing.  I  (;annot,  therefore,  well  doubt  the 
correctness  of  his  iidbrmation. 

If  truly  stated,  as  I  believe  it  to  have  bee!i,  this  fact  makes 
somewhat  for  my  former  opinion.  I  have,  also,  myself,  fre- 
quently found  scattered  birds  on  such  hill-tops,  and  in  such 
mountain-swales,  whik;  deer-stalking,  in  August  and  September, 
though  not  in  numbers  which  woukl  justify  the  belief  in  a 
general  migration  en  ma.sse  to  su('h  localities. 

If,  however,  my  half-formed  opinion — for  it  is  no  more — be 
coiTect,  the  birds  are  dispersed  at  this  period  of  the  year,  and 
are  only  to  be  found,  casually,  in  knots  of  three  or  four,  and 
never  in  greater  numbers. 

The  other,  and,  on  the  whole,  perhaps  more  probable  sug- 
gestion is  this :  that,  after  rearing  their  young,  driven  by  the 
heat  of  the  weather — or,  it  may  be,  by  the  temporary  e.xhaustion 
of  food  on  their  favorite  grounds,  they  move  farther  northward 
as  does  the  English   Snipe,  yet  earlier  in  the  season,  not   to 


'1 ' 

J 

si    ; 

li 

I ! 

ill 

if 


196 


FRANK   forester's    FIELD    SPORTS. 


return  until  the  premature  cold  of  northern  Canada  drives  them 
back,  to  tarry  with  us  a  few  months  on  their  way  southward. 

Should  this  prove  to  be  the  case,  the  Woodcock,  instead  of 
being  termed  with  us  a  summer  bird  of  passage,  must  be 
regarded  as  a  spring  and  autumnal  visitant,  like  his  congener, 
tiie  Snipe — with  this  difTerencc,  that  the  Snipe  rarely  breeds 
witli  us,  going  northward  to  nidificate,  while  his  fellow-emigrant, 
our  Scolopax,  invariably  rears  his  young  before  going  farther 
toward  the  frosts  of  the  nortlicrn  jiolc. 

Of  these  suggestions  my  rcatlers  must  judge  whether  is 
the  better  of  the  two ;  one  of  the  two  I  believe  to  bo  the  only 
way  for  accounting  for  the  Woodcock's  short  disapj)earance  at 
this  season.  For  the  rest,  as  I  leaned  at  first  to  the  former,  so 
do  I  now  rather  incline  toward  the  latter  belief,  facts  not  bear- 
ing out  the  former  tv^  my  satisfaction,  although  I  do  not  think 
the  question  has  been,  as  yet,  fully  tested  by  experiment. 

It  is  to  be  regretted  here,  that  this  rjnestion  is  yearly  becom- 
ing, in  thes-e  districts,  more  diflicidt  of  iilution;  and  I  am  the 
more  strenuous  in  noting  this  emigration,  because  things  may 
come,  ere  long,  to  such  a  pass,  that  it  will  become  wholly 
Mndistini!;nishable. 

When  I  first  shot  in  New-Jersey,  and  in  the  river  counties 
of  New- York,  the  disappearance  of  the  birds  was  evident 
enough  ;  because,  up  to  a  certain  day,  they  abounded,  and  after 
that,  were  not.  Now,  long  before  the  second  week  of  July, 
the  Woodcock  are  exterminated  in  their  summer  haun's  for 
miles  and  miles  around'  our  large  cities  ;  too  many  of  them, 
alas !  slaughtered  before  the  season,  when  scarcely  able  to  fly 
— when  nearly  unfit  for  the  table — when  a  game  despicable  to 
the  loyal  sportsman,  and  a  victim  easy  to  the  pot-hunting  knave 
who  goes  gunning  with  a  half-bred,  half-broken  cur,  and  a  Ger- 
man fowling-piece,  dear  at  a  dollar's  purchase. 

Oh  !  gentlemen  legislators — gentlemen  sportsmen, 

"  Reform  it  altogether  !" 
Oh  !  ye  choice  spirits,  who  stood  forth,  tfter  the  long,  hard 


1     < 


UPLAND   SHOOTINR. 


107 


winter  and  deep  buow-drifts  Quail-dcstioyirij^  of  ISHG,  to  rescue 
that  delightful  little  fowl  from  total  extinction,  stand  forth  in 
likewijc  now,  in  prote(!tion  of  the  Woodcock.  Sullicient  for 
the  day  is  the  evil  thereof.  Railroads  arc  ruining  the  hopes— 
the  })leasures  of  the  sportsman  ;  our  best  shooting  grouiuls  now 
swarai,  on  the  first  of  July,  with  guns  more  numerous  than 
hirds ;  the  Warwick  woodlands,  once  inaccessible  to  the  pot- 
jiunter  and  the  poacher,  may  now  be  reached  i'or  fifty  cents  ; 
may  now  be  swept  clear  in  a  single  day  ;  nay,  arc  swept  clear 
of  half-fledged  younglings,  by  men,  boys,  and  bunglers,  and 
ruthlessly  diivoured  before  the  season  has  set  in,  by  ignorant 
voracious  cockneys. 

'  Reform  it  altogetlier  I' 

Enact  that  the  Woodcock  shall  not  be  slain — shall  not  be 
possessed — as  iMr.  Bhint  possessed  him — on  plate  or  in  stomach, 
until  the  first  day  of  October.  Every  true  sportsman — every 
sportsman  whatsoever,  will  go  hand  and  heart  with  the  law — 
will  watch  and  prevent  the  illegal  sale  of  the  bird  ;  and  then, 
ye  gods  of  woodcraft!  Sylvans  and  Fauns  !  and  thou,  friend 
of  the  hunter.  Pan  !  what  sport  shidl  we  have  in  brown  Octo- 
ber, when  the  sere  underbrush  is  bare  of  leaves  to  miif  the 
sportsman's  aim  ;  when  the  cool  dewy  earth  sends  up  the  odoi 
of  the  game  in  fresh  steams  to  the  Setter's  keen  and  sagacious 
nose ;  when  the  pure  air  braces  the  nerves  and  fans  tlie  brow, 
delicious;  when  the  full-grown,  white-frontel,  pink-legged 
Cock  springs  up — not  fluttering  I'eebly  now,  and  staggering 
stupidly  into  the  muzzle  of  the  gtui,  to  drop  again  within  twenty 
yards,  but  on  a  vigorous  and  whistling  pinion,  wi  ii  sharp-piping 
alarm  note,  swift  as  a  rifle-bidlet,  soaring  away  through  the 
tree-tops,  or  dar  ing,  devious  with  abrupt  zig-zags,  among  the 
thick-set  saplings. 

Him,  no  boy  can  blaze  at,  his  twenty  times  in  half  an  hour, 
and  slaughter  after  all  with  one  chance  pellet,  or  hap])ily  wea- 
ried down  without  (me!  Him  can  no  German  gun  achieve,  of 
cast-iron,  scattering  its  shot  over  an  area  of  twenty  feet,  harra- 


linM 


IJ 


m 
m 


(' 


198 


FRAiNK    FORESTER  S    FIELD    SPORTS. 


i'        I 


'■i       I  I 


less  at  twenty  yards  !  Him  can  no  cur-dog  flush  in  gun-slioC 
of  pot-hunting  poucher. 

No !  gentlo  reader,  him,  vvhelhcr  he  Hes  in  the  tufted  fern  and 
wintergreens,  or  the  dry  slope  of  some  warm,  westering  liill- 
side,  among  second-growth  of  brown  oak  and  chestnut;  whether 
lie  wades  among  the  sliaHow  mu'l-pools,  sheltered  by  I'ern, 
dock-leaves,  and  dark  colt's-lbot,  of  some  deep  maple  swamp, 
it  needs  the  stealthy  pace,  the  sh>w,  cat-like,  guarded  motion,  the 
instinctive  knowledge  of  the  ground,  the  perfect  nose,  and 
absolute  docility,  which  belong  only  to  the  thorough  dog  of  the 
thorough  sportsman,  to  find  certainly,  anu  tand  staunchly  ! 
Him,  whether  he  flap  up,  seen  for  one  second  only,  among  the 
leafless  sterns,  and  lost  the  next  among  the  tufted  tops  of  the 
yet  verdant  alders ;  whedier  he  soar  away,  with  his  shaip 
whistle,  far,  far  above  the  red  and  yellow  tree  to^is ;  whether  he 
pitch  now  here,  now  there,  sharply  and  suddenly,  among  the 
close  saplings,  it  needs  the  eye  of  faith,  the  finger  of  instinct, 
the  steady  nerve,  the  deliberate  celerity,  the  marking  glance, 
which  characterise  the  sportsman — the  crack  shot,  who — as 
poor  Cypress  averx'ed  truly — is  born  like  the  poet,  not  made 
like  the  orator — to  cut  down  at  his  speed ;  not  wing-tipped  or 
leg-broken,  but  riddled  by  the  concentrated  charge,  turned 
over  and  over  in  mid  air,  arrested  mercifully  by  quick  and 
unerring  death,  and  falling  with  a  heavy  tJiud,  which  tells  good 
things  of  ten  ounces'  weight,  on  the  brown  leaves  of  gorgeous 
autumn. 

My  words  are  weak  to  describe  the  full  charm  of  this  noblo 
pastnne — noble,  when  followed  as  it  should  be,  in  the  true  ani- 
mus  and  ardor  of  the  chase — but  most  ignoble  when  perverted 
to  base,  culinary,  carnal,  gluttonous,  self-seeking  purposes — 
weak  are  they,  when  compared  with  the  vivid  and  heart-thril- 
ling reality — yet  even  thus,  they  will  have  done  their  duty  if  they 
succeed  in  arousing  the  attention  of  the  true  friends  of  sports- 
manship throughout  the  land,  to  this  most  interesting  subject. 
Certain  it  is  that  the  Woodcock  returns,  whether  old  or  younjj,  to 
the  same  place  where  he  was  bred  and  where  he  has  reared  his 


■  :M 


UPLAND   SHOOTING. 


199 


-as 
latle 
cl  or 
iiiccl 
ami 
ooil 
tcous 

loblo 

ani- 

nted 

iCS — 


|))CCt. 

Id  his 


young,  if  unmolested.  If  persecuted  and  sliot  off,  year  after 
year,  on  liis  very  hrcediug  ground,  and  while  lie  was  in  the 
very  act  of  hrcoding,  he  will  desert  that  ground  altogelher. 
Of  this,  I  have  seen  proof  positive.  In  the  ininiediate  vicinity  of 
Warwick,  in  Orange  county,  within  two  miles  of  the  village, 
there  are  twenty  little  woods  and  swamps,  t'uch  of  which  used  ten 
or  twelve  years  ago  to  be  a  certain  find  in  July  for  two,  three  or 
more  broods  of  birds.  It  was  easy  shooting  and  easy  marking 
ground,  and  year  after  year  I  and  my  party — at  lliat  time  no 
one  else  shot  in  that  region — killed  o(I'  the  whole  summer  stock, 
clean.  The  consequence  was,  that  long  before  the  general 
shooting  of  the  district  was  afl'ectcd  by  the  march  of  intellect 
and  the  growth  of  railroads,  and  while  birds  yet  abounded  a 
mile  or  two  farther  off,  those  swamps  ceased  even  to  hold  a 
summer  brood.  Twenty  birds  killed  in  a  wood,  twenty  days 
in  succession,  injure  that  wood  loss  as  a  home  for  Woodcock 
than  ten  killed  once  in  July.  Hence,  as  for  fifty  other  reasons, 
I  say,  if  we  would  have  Woodcock  shooting  at  all,  away  with 
summer  shooting — away  with  all  upland  shooting,  antecedent 
to  the  first  of  October,  unless  you  choose  to  except  Snipe, 
although  for  the  exception  I  can  see  no  reason,  unless  it  is  that 
the  evil  produced  by  iiilling  them  in  spring  is  as  yet  somethhig 
less  crying,  and  the  diminution  of  thei.'  numbers  less  palpable. 

I  had  the  honor  to  lay  a  drafi  of  a  petition  to  the  New- York 
legislature  on  tliis  subject,  before  the  New- York  S|)ortsman's 
Club  in  the  course  of  last  winter — lSlG-7 — which  was  taken 
up,  and  the  draft  printed.  I  regret  to  say  that,  from  prudential 
motives,  as  it  was  thought  by  many  good  sportsmen,  and  appre- 
hension of  difficulty  in  getting  a  sufficiency  of  signatures,  action 
on  it  has  been  pos  poned  for  the  pn-sent 

I  am  still  myself  satisfied,  tliat  the  measure  therein  proposed, 
or  some  other  nearly  akin  io  it,  rs  the  last  and  only  lio^jc  left  to 
sportsmen  of  preserving  any  kind  of  game,  but  especially 
Woodcock,  among  us. 

The  domestic  habits  of  the  Qm'l,  his  haunting  homesteads, 
and   becoming  to  some   degree  a  pet  of  the   farmer,  and  yet 


'I,   "■! 


Ml 


!    I 


200 


FRANK   FORESTEU  S    FIELD   SPORTS. 


more,  his  indigenousness  to  tlio  laiid,  acts  in  a  consideralih? 
degree  as  a  protection  to  liim.  But  the  Woodcock,  who  is  a 
more  emigrant,  lioro  to-day  and  away  to-morrow,  has  no 
domestic  friend,  no  landlord  to  protect  him,  and  man  forget  that 
if  spared,  he  will  as  surely  return  to  breed  in  the  same  wood 
again,  bringing  all  his  progeny  with  him  to  increase  and  mul- 
tiply, as  the  tepid  winds  and  warm  showers  of  April  and  May 
will  succeed  to  the  easterly  gales  and  snow  drifts  of  March,  and 
the  leaves  be  green  in  summer  from  the  buds  which  burst  in 
sj)ring. 

My  game  law,  sucli  as  it  is,  will  be  found  in  the  appendix  to 
Upland  Shooting.  I  believe  it  would  be  useful  as  it  is,  but 
should  any  sportsman  or  any  society  of  sportsmen  be  able  to 
(;oncoct  one  better  (iither  in  practice,  or  in  the  probability  of 
success,  I  and  all  my  friends,  and  those  who  think  with  me  on 
the  subject,  are  prepared  to  support  it.  Unity  of  action  is  the 
one  llnng  needful ;  and  that  cannot  be  attained  if  every  man 
holds  out  resolutely  for  his  own  crotchet. 

Let  the  principle  once  be  aflirmed  and  made  good,  and  the 
details  are  of  infinitely  minor  importance.  They  will  follow. 
For  the  rest,  what  is  to  be  done,  must  be  done  quickly,  or  we 
shall  be  liable  to  the  ridicule  which  falls  on  the  tavAy  Jaincant 
who  locks  his  stable  dnor  after  the  horse  is  stolen. 

Three  or  four  more  seasons  like  the  two  last,  and  the  ques- 
tion will  be  settled  to  our  hands,  and  if  we  do  not  bestir 
ourselves  now,  we  shall  find  ere  long  that  we  shall  have  neither 
summer  nor  autumn  Cock-shooting  within  a  hundred  miles  of 
the  seaboard. 


H 


UFLANO  SnOOTINO. 


2UI 


UPLAND    PLOVER    SHOOTING. 


I     'in 


nil 


ITH  tlio  end  of  July,  all  that  inn 
properly  bo  called  shooting,  as  a 
genuine  sport,  is  at  an  end.  Tlu' 
Woodcock,  as  1  have  already  stat- 
ed, is  no  longer  to  bo  found,  wheth- 
er ho  be  lying  perdu,  on  the  moun- 
tain tops,  or  oft"  on  a  wilder  wing 
for  the  far  north.  'i"he  Snipe  has 
not  yet  begun  to  return  from  his 
arctic  breeding  places  ;  the  Quail 
is  rttill  busy  with  her  eggs,  or  her  fledging  cheepers ;  and  the  Ruft'ed 
Grouse,  although  her  young  are  already  two-thirds  grown,  is  pro- 
tected by  the  game-laws  until  the  first  day  of  November. 

This  last  jirotocti  n  i)y  the  way,  is  as  absurd  in  point  of  fact, 
as  everything  connected  with  the  game  laws  of  the  States, 

All  the  varieties  of  Grouse  are  early  breeders  ;  their  young 
come  rapidly  to  maturity  ;  when  full-grown  they  are  as  wild  as 
hawks  ;  and  at  all  times,  from  their  own  habits,  and  the  peculi- 
arity of  the  ground  on  which  they  reside,  they  take  better  care 
«)f  themselves,  than  any  other  species  of  winged  game.  The 
breeding  season  of  these  birds  commences  in  May ;  early  in 
June  the  young  birds  can  fly  ;  and  by  the  middle  of  September 
they  are  full-grown.  There  is  this  peculiarity  about  them, 
moreover,  that  they  do  not,  as  all  other  birds  of  this  order, 
rasorcs,  with  which  I  am  acquainted,  kecji  together  in  broods  or 
coveys  until  the  commencement  of  the  next  breeding  season  ; 
but  separate  altogether,  and  ramble  about  either  as  single  indi- 
viduals, or  in  small  parties,  during  the  autumn  and   winter. 


yoa 


FRANK    forester's    FIELD    SI'ORTS. 


!     li 


I 


After  tills  separation  lins  (nue  taken  place,  the  birds,  lioth 
younj^  and  old,  are  so  wild  that  they  will  rarely  or  never  lie  to 
be  pointed  V)y  a  dog,  unless  they  are  found  hy  chance  in  some 
very  dense  brake  or  grass-grown  thicket,  in  which  they  cannot 
run  ;  and  consequently  there  is  no  chance  of  having  any  sjxirl 
with  them,  after  they  have  once  ceased  to  keep  company. 
This,  I  think,  they  invariably  do,  before  the  law  permits  that 
they  should  bo  shot.  Consequently,  although  I  have  often 
been  in  regicms  where  they  abound,  I  have  never  found  it  worth 
the  while  to  go  out  to  hunt  for  them  especi;illy.  They  are  u 
bird  of  a  very  rambling  disposition,  here  to-day  and  miles  oft'  to- 
mori'ow,  frecjuenting  the  roughest  and  most  inaccessible  moun- 
tain-sides, evergreen  thickets,  and  woods  of  hemlock,  pine;  or 
red  cedar ;  and  I  have  never  seen,  and  never  expect  to  see  the 
place  where  a  sportsman  can  be  si/rc  of  getting  a  dozen  shots 
over  points,  or  even  half  that  number,  in  a  day's  hard  walking. 
Add  to  this,  that  if  the  Rufi'ed  Gi'ouse  be  the  particular  object 
of  pursuit,  there  is  no  chance  of  finding  any  other  speciis  of 
game,  unless  it  be  a  few  Hares  ;  for  the  haunts  of  this  solitary 
and  mountain-loving  misanthrope  are  too  wild  and  rude  for 
the  domestic  Quail,  and  too  arid  for  the  Woodcock. 

In  autumn  shooting,  stragglers  are  often  met  on  Quail 
ground,  in  low  thickets,  bog-meadow  edges,  and  the  like,  and 
then  they  aff'ord  good  sport,  and  often  make  a  great  addition  to 
the  bag ;  but  the  only  way  is  to  take  them  as  you  find  them, 
and  if  you  find  them,  be  thankful ;  but  never  deviate  from  your 
regular  line  of  beat  in  order  to  find,  or  to  follow  them  ;  if  you 
do,  sure  disappointment  awaits  you.  The  best  day  I  ever  had 
with  Ruffed  Grouse,  was  in  the  low,  dense  thickets  on  the  edge 
of  the  Big  Piece,  in  New-Jersey,  in  the  winter  of  1837 ;  when 
there  were  a  vast  quantity  of  Quail  in  that  region ;  but  I  had 
not  the  least  expectation  of  finding  more  than  a  chance  strag- 
gler or  two  of  the  Grouse.  With  a  friend,  however,  I  bagged 
eight  brace  of  these  birds,  fairly  pointed,  which  I  consider  great 
sport,  as  I  have  never  before  or  since  seen  an  opportunity  of 
doing  a  quarter  of  the  work,  though  I  have  taken  long  jonrneys 


UPLAND   SHOOTINn. 


20.1 


for  the  especial  puqjoso  of  potting  tliis  Hport  in  perfection.  If 
the  law  authorized  tlie  sliootiiig  them  in  iSoptomber,  or  at  the 
latest  on  the  first  of  October,  there  are  nuiny  districts  of  the 
country,  wliere  tii(!  Huffed  fi rouse  would  afford  i;reat  sport  to 
those,  wlio  would  take  the  troulde  to  j)ursue  them  into  their 
fastnesses,  which  requires  considerable  strenjrth  and  activity. 

In  the  meantime,  however,  while  there  is  no  letfitimiite 
upland  shootin;,'  tf)  be  had — by  le<j[itimato,  I  mean  that,  which 
is  followed  with  doi^s,  wh(;ther  Setter,  Pointer  or  Spaiiiel,  in  a 
legitimate  and  scientific  manner — there  comes  into  play,  at  the 
very  critical  moment,  tlie  "  Tiartrnmian  Sandpiper,"  lietter 
known  as  the  "Upland  Plover" — "  Grass  Plover"— "  Field  Plo- 
ver," or  "  Frost  Bird" — which  as  far  as  a  lioniic  hnitchr  flir  flit- 
epicure  <Tocs,  is  inferior  in  my  judrrment  to  no  bird  that  flics, 
unless  it  be  the  Canvass-IJack ;  and  there,  with  the  Chancellor, 
I  doitJ/f.  /  As  a  jrame-bird,  and  object  of  juirsuit,  I  do  not  my- 
self care  about  him,  the  ipndus  oprraiuTi  does  not  suit  my  book, 
or  entertain  me  ;  nevertheless,  there  is  mucli  skill  displayed  in 
circumventing,  or  as  iMajor  Docherty  would  say,  svrrinnul!)i<: 
this  wily  bird,  and  as  frequently  a  very  large  number  may  be 
brought  to  the  bag,  it  is  with  some  persons  a  very  favorite 
sport. 

This  bird,  which  by  the  way  is  not  a  Plover,  though  very 
nearly  allied  to  that  species,  is  stated  by  Mr.  Aububon  to  arrive 
in  the  Middle  States,  early  in  May,  to  reach  Maine  by  the  mid- 
dle of  that  month,  to  breed  from  Maryland  northward  to  the 
Snshatchewan,  and  to  winter  in  Texas  and  Mexico. 

It  is  shot,  in  the  Eastern  and  Middle  States,  from  Massachu- 
setts to  Pennsylvania,  during  the  months  of  August  and 
September,  and  in  fact,  until  it  is  driven  southward  by  the 
frosts ;  although  it  is  worthy  of  remark,  that  it  is  also  killed 
abundantly  so  far  south  as  the  neighborhood  of  Charleston,  S. 
C,  as  early  as  the  middle  of  July.  The  great  majority  of  the 
birds  shot  in  these  districts  is  certainly  not  composed  of  those 
only  which  are  bred  here  ;  but  is  continually  swelled  by  flocks 
coming  down  successively  from  the   north-eastward,  where    f 


I  M1151 


1 

(111; 


ui 


f^^ 


204 


FKA.NK    FOKKSTEK's   FIELD   SI'OIITS. 


I     ^ 


I!  i 


I 


imngino  thoy  breed,  in  far  grentcr  quniititicH  llian  vvitliin  tliH 
coiilliics  of  tlie  States. 

On  tlicir  arrival  here  tlioy  frequent,  wlicrevcr  such  exist, 
wick',  upliind  downs  or  moorH,  covered  willi  short,  close  turf; 
and  are  found  in  greater  nund)ers  in  Tfliodc  Island,  in  the  vicinity 
of  Newport,  than  in  any  other  district  with  which  T  am  ac- 
<|uninted;  althou<,di  froni  the  aspect  of  tlic  country,  the  tiature 
of  the  soil,  and  the  (piality  of  the  grass  lands,  I  cannot  doubt  hut 
that  tlicy  must  exist  abinidantly  along  the  Atlantic  coasta  of  the 
State  of  Maine.  Comparatively  speaking,  there  a.  j  few  sportt*- 
nien  in  that  region,  as  is  the  case  in  all  new  countries,  where 
men  /n/f>t  for  ])rofit  or  for  provision,  not  for  sport,  and  where 
the  pursuit  of  the  larger  animals  is  so  comtnon  and  so  well 
rewarded,  as  to  render  the  shooting  of  birds  on  the  wing  rare, 
and  in  the  eyes  of  the  community  rather  ridiculous.  Tlie  ccm- 
se(]uence  of  this  is,  that  tlu;  capabilities  of  the  country  in  a 
sporting  view,  are  uidvuown  ;  and  the  species  of  game,  to  be 
found  in  it,  almost  certainly  lost  to  the  sj)orting  world. 

In  .Tune,  IS  10,  I  saw  several  of  these  birds,  ^vith  young,  in 
the  immediate  vicinity  of  the  city  of  Bangor  ;  and  I  have  little 
or  no  doubt  that,  were  proper  means  taken,  great  numbers 
might  be  procured  at  the  proper  season  in  tliat  region. 

'i'he  Field  IMover  is  abundant  in  the  Boston  niarkels  during 
the  season;  and  I  believe  they  are  sufllciently  common  to  afford 
amusement  to  the  sportsmen  of  that  country,  though  I  am  not 
aware  in  what  parts  of  the  State  thoy  are  most  frequent. 

On  the  plains  in  the  vicinity  of  Hempstead,  Long  Island,  they 
used  to  abound  ;  and  they  still  fretiuent  that  coutitry,  although 
not  nearly  so  numerous  as  they  were  some  years  since.  In  New 
.lersey  they  are  very  rare,  owing  to  the  nature,  I  imagine,  of 
the  soil,  and  the  face  of  the  country;  for  these  birds  are  the 
least  maritime  of  their  race,  and  never,  I  think,  frequent  salt 
marshes,  or  water  meadows  of  any  kind  ;  of  which  most  of  the 
low  lands  in  New  Jersey  consist,  while  its  hills  are  not  open 
slicep-walks,  but  rocky  and  wooded  fastnesses,  etjually  unfit  foi- 
this  Sandpiper's  abode. 


DPLANU    SHOOTINO. 


ior> 


Wlioro  viist  unenclosed  plnins  aro  not  to  lie  foiinil,  this  hiM 
loves  to  luiuut  l:ir^r(!  hill  piistnres,  lallow-fields,  and  newly 
ploutrlicd  ofrounds,  wliere  it  finds  the  various  kinds  of  insect  t'octd 
to  which  it  is  so.  partial, — ifrasshoppers,  licelles,  and  all  llie 
small  (Coleopterous  Hies  coninion  to  such  localities,  in  the  tfrass 
lands — and  worms,  small  snails,  and  the  like,  on  the  fallows. 

Th(!  Upland  Plover  Is  a  shy  and  timid  hird  ;  and,  on  foot,  it 
is,  for  the  most  part,  ne.irly  impossihle  to  approach  it.  It  feeds 
on  u:r(<uiid  such  as  I  hav(!  descrihed,  in  small  com|)ani(!s — they 
cannot  he  called  jhirlcn,  for  tln-y  do  not  usually  act  in  concert, 
or  fly  to'.^ether,  rising,  if  thoy  an;  startled,  one;  hy  one,  and  each 
taking  its  own  course,  witlnmt  heeding  itsconipanions — this,  hy 
the  way,  I  have  noticed  as  a  peculiarity  of  all  the  upland  scolo- 
pdcidrr,  in)iie  ol"  which  lly,  so  far  as  T  have  ever  ohscuTed,  in 
large  hodios,  wheeling  and  turning  simultaneously,  at  a  signal, 
as  is  the  practice,  more  or  less,  of  all  the  maritime  Sandpipers, 
Tattlers,  Plovers,  and  Phalaropes.  While  running  swiftly  over 
the  surface  of  the  ground,  they  utter  a  very  peculiar  and  plain- 
tive whistle,  exceedingly  mellow  and  musical,  which  has  the 
remarkahle  (juality  of  appearing  to  he  sounded  close  at  hand, 
when  it  is  in  reality  uttered  at  a  very  considerahle  distance.  It 
is  this  note  which  fre(juently  gives  the  iirst  notice  to  the  spoils- 
man, that  he  is  in  the  vicinity  of  the  hird  ;  and  it  also  gives  him 
notice  that  the  hird  is  aware  of  him,  and  out  of  his  reach;  for 
no  sooner  is  it  uttered,  than  the  Sandjjiper  either  takes  wing  at 
once,  or  runs  very  rapidly  tf)  some  distance,  and  then  rising, 
sweeps  round  and  round  in  aerial  circles,  and  alights  again  out 
of  distance.  If  wing-tipped,  or  slightly  wounded,  it  runs  so  ra- 
pidly as  to  set  pursuit  at  deliancc',  and  then  septals  hchiiid  some 
clod  of  earth,  or  tuft  of  grass,  to  the  colors  of  which  its  beauti- 
fully mottled  plumage  so  nearly  assimilates  it,  that  it  cannot  be 
distinguished,  without  great  difiiculty,   among  the  leaves  and 


hernaire. 


I  have  only  shot  this  Sandpiper  myself,  on  a  tract  of  upland 
pasture  and  ploughed  land,  near  to  Bristol,  in  Pennsylvania, 
known  as  "  Livingston  Manor,"  where  I  found  the  birds  very 


'1 

I'll 

i 

'1 

Hi 

;■! 

1  1 1 

.  1 

:    1  i 


I 


200 


THANK  FonF.sTEn  s  KiKf.n  srnnrs. 


plmfirnl,  nnil  in  cxcrllnit  rniulitioii,  diiriiiu;  tlir  inoiifli  of 
Aiit;iist,  ill  flio  yciir  IHll.  Tin'  coiinlry  Itpiiit^  closely  nicloscd 
with  stout  timlxT  fciicrs,  it  is  inipriuticiiltlc  citlicr  to  drive  up 
to  them  ill  a  twd-wlifclcd  carriniff,  wiiich  is  hy  fur  tlic  jncltMii- 
l)lo  mode  of"  pursuiiiir  tlicni,  or  to  stiilk  flu'in  on  liorsehack  ; 
nltlioiiffli  I  am  of  opinion  tlmt  frrcat  sport  miirjit  he  liad  there 
with  n  pony  that  could  fence  well,  mid  stand  fire  steadily.  'I"he 
men  who  shoot  them  for  the  market  then*,  hnild  ltf)inili-hoiises, 
ill  which  to  lie  hid,  or  conceal  thiniselvcs  in  the  corners  of 
maizofields,  or  hehind  any  casual  hiding-places  the  country 
may  ofl'er,  while  their  companions  scatter  about  the  fields,  diiv- 
iiifj;  the  birds  to  and  fro,  and  renderiiiu;  them,  of  course,  exceed- 
ingly wild  ;  yet  a  considt^rahhi  mimlier  are  shot  thus,  as  they 
ily  over  their  concealed  enemies.  This  mode  of  proceedinjf  is, 
of  course,  unendunihle  to  the  sportsman.  Hy  the  aid  of  Eley's 
wiro  cartridifes,  red  and  hluo,  of  No.  0  shot,  however,  I  con- 
trived to  got  moderately  good  sport,  walking  about  in  pursuit 
of  them,  ami  taking  my  chance  at  those  driven  over  me  by  other 
parties,  I,  one  day,  baggu<l  sixteen  birds  thus  ;  but  it  would 
have  been  a  hundred  to  one  against  getting  a  single  Sandpiper, 
with  loose  shot ;  as  I  am  certain  that  not  one  bird  fell  within 
fifty  yards  of  mc. 

This  Sandpiper  flics  very  swiftly,  and  when  on  the  wing 
shews  like  a  very  large  bird,  owing  to  the  great  length  of  its 
sharji-pointed  wings.  At  first  sight,  you  would  suppose  it  to  be 
as  large  as  a  pigeon,  although  its  body  is  not,  in  truth,  very 
much  larger  than  that  of  the  common  Snipe,  or  intermediate  be- 
tween that  and  the  Woodcock,  while  the  extent  of  its  wings 
from  tip  to  tip  exceed  either  of  these,  by  nearly  one-fourth. 
Like  many  other  species  of  wild  birds,  this  Sandpiper  is  ex- 
tremely cunning,  and  appears  to  bo  able  to  calculate  the  range 
of  a  fowling-piecn  with  great  nicety  ;  and  you  will  constantly 
find  them  sitting  perfectly  at  their  ease,  until  a  few  paces  more 
would  bring  you  within  shot  of  them,  and  then  rising,  with 
ilieir  provoking  whistle,  just  when  you  believe  yourself  sure  of 
getting  a  crack  at  them.     In  the  same  manner  they  will  circlo 


UPLAND    SHOOTINO. 


107 


of 

ISCtl 

'.  n\» 
tern- 
ick  ; 

lilt '10 

Thf 

lUiitry 
,  <hiv- 

s  they 
Eley's 

I    COll- 

pmsuil 
y  other 

WdulJ 

within 

ic  wing 
of  its 
it  to  he 
th,  very 
iatc  he- 
s  wings 
3-lburth. 
r  is  ex- 
ic  range 
)nstantly 
es  more 
(T,  with 
8ine  of 
ill  circle 


round  you,  or  fly  past  you,  just  out  of  gunshot,  tempting  you  all 
the  time  with  hopes  that  will  still  prove  false,  unless  you  huvi! 
BOine  such  dovico  aa  Eloy's  cartridges,  hy  which  to  turn  the 
shrewdness  of  this  cunning  little  sclu  iner  to  its  own  destruc- 
tion. 

Ill  Rhode  Island,  where  alone  the  sport  is  now  pursued  sys- 
tematically, the  mode  adopted  is  this,— the  shooter,  accompa- 
nied hy  a  skilful  driver,  on  whom,  hy  the  way,  the  whole  onus 
of  tlio  business  rests,  and  to  whoiu  all  the  merit  of  success,  if 
att.iined,  is  attrihutahle,  is  uiounlcd  in  what  is  termed  in  New 
Engliind  a  chaise,  that  is  to  say,  an  old-fashioiu'd  gig  with  a  top. 
In  this  convenience,  he  kneels  down,  with  his  loft  leg  out  of  the 
carriage,  and  his  foot  firmly  planted  on  the  step,  holding  his 
gun  ready  to  shoot  at  an  instant's  notice.  The  driver,  porceiv- 
ing  the  hirds,  as  they  are  running  and  feeding  on  the  open  sur- 
face, selects  one,  according  to  his  judgnn-nt,  and  drives  round  it 
rapidly  in  concentric  circles,  until  Im  gets  within  gunshot  of  it, 
and  perceives  hy  its  motions  that  it  will  not  permit  a  nearer  ap- 
proach. He  then  makes  a  short  half  turn  from  it,  pulling  the 
horse  short  up,  at  the  same  instant ;  and  at  that  very  same  in- 
stant, for  the  Sandpiper  rises  itivariahly  at  the  moment  in  which 
the  chaise  stops,  the  shooter  steps  out  lightly  to  the  ground,  and 
kills  his  hird,  hcfore  it  has  got  well  uptm  the  wing.  In  the 
timing  of  all  this  various  work,  on  the  part  of  the  driver  and  tlu! 
gunner,  there  is  a  good  deal  of  skill  reciuisitc,  and,  of  course,  a 
good  deal  of  excitement.  Rut  the  real  sport,  and  the  real  skill, 
are  hoth  on  the  part  of  the  drivoi-,  whose  duty  it  is  to  deliver 
his  marksman  as  nearly  as  possible  to  the  game,  yet  never  to 
run  the  thing  so  close,  as  to  allow  the  Sandpiper  to  take  wing 
before  he  has  pulled  up.  The  difference  in  the  judgment  and 
skill  of  drivers  is  immense;  and  there  is  one  gentleman  in  New 
York,  a  well-known,  and  old  friend  of  the  public,  who  is  said  to 
he  so  infinitely  superior  to  all  others,  that  the  gun  in  his  chaise, 
even  if  it  he  handled  by  the  inferior  shot,  is  sure  to  come  off 
the  winner.  It  is  not  unusual,  I  am  told,  to  hag  from  twenty 
to  twenty-five  couple  of  these  delicious  birds  in  a  day's  sport, 
VOL.    I.  16 


208 


FRANK    FORESTEU'S    FIELD    SPORTS. 


.1  f< 


in  this  manner,  an<l  I  have  heard  of  infinitely  greater  quantities 
being  brought  to  bag. 

Tlie  record  of  some  ahnost  incredible  number,  killed  by  throe 
guns,  was  published  last  year  in  the  Spirit  of  the  Times,  and 
by  well-known  sportsmen ;  but  I  have  never  tried  the  sport 
myself,  and  cannot  thoreftne  speak  to  it.  I  am  told,  it  is  vastly 
exciting  and  amusing, — but  I  have  been  told  the  same  thing 
about  lying  flat  on  your  back  in  a  battery,  oft'  Fire-island  lulof — 
and  1  can  oidy  say,  judging  from  analogy,  that  it  may  be  very 
well  for  once  or  twice,  or  to  kill  a  few  hours  when  there  is  no 
other  sport  to  be  had,  but  that  it  must  be  awfully  slow  work,  as 
compared  with  any  sort  of  field  shooting,  on  which  the  instinct 
and  intelligence  of  dogs  can  be  brought  to  bear.  To  see  them 
work  is,  I  think,  more  than  half  the  battle. 

After  all,  any  shooting — cxce])t  shooting  sifting — is  better 
than  no  shooting ;  and  I  have  no  doubt,  if  I  wore  at  Rhode 
Island,  in  the  proper  season,  I  should  be  found  fliaising  it,  as 
eagerly  as  any  body  else.  I  am  sure  I  do  not  know  why  I 
should  not,  since  older,  and  I  dare  say,  better  sportsmen  than 
myself  swear  by  it. 

This,  then,  is  the  connecting  link  between  the  autumn  and 
spring  "'ooting  of  the  Uplands.  For  those  who  like  them,  Bay 
shooting,  .t  all  tlie  varieties  of  Plovers,  Sandpipers,  Tattlers, 
Phc^'^aropes,  and  Curlews,  known  along  shore  as  "  Bay  Snipe," 
is  to  be  had,  in  full  force,  everywhere  from  Cape  Cod,  or  fur- 
ther eastward,  to  Cape  May,  during  the  months  of  .Tuly,  August, 
and  September;  and,  in  the  end  of  August,  Rail  shooting  com- 
mentH's  on  the  Delaware  and  adjacent  rivers;  but  of  these  I 
shall  treat  in  their  places, — since  the  former  must  be  rcgaided 
as  Coast  shooting,  and  the  latter  cannot  be  classed  with  Upland 
sport,  although  it  is  tialy  pursued  inlatid. 

With  Plovci  shooting,  therefore,  the  sports  of  the  summer 
months  end  ;  and,  with  the  month  of  October,  the  jolliest,  hear- 
tiest month  of  the  whole  year,  despite  of  what  Mr.  Bryant  says 
of  "  the  melancholy  days"  of  autumn,  the  real  season  has  its 
commencement  ;  and  thereafter  the  woodlands,  the  stid)blefc 
and  the  mountahi's-brow,  are  the  true  sportsman's  Paradise 


UPLAND  HHOOTING. 


209 


AUTUMN    COCK    SHOOTING 


and 
I,  Bay 

ittlers, 
5inpe," 
or  fur- 

cT  com- 
licse  I 
jrai<lt*d 
Tplaiul 

lumtner 
hear- 
Int  says 
Ihas  Us 

[ubbleft. 

idise 


r  UTUMN  sliooting, 
wliicli  is;)^?-  r.r- 
cc/kvce  the  true 
sport  of  tlio  true 
sportsman,  can- 
not bo  said  to 
have  its  boiiin- 
niniT  on  any 
particular  day, 
or  even  in  any 
particular  month  of  the  season. 

Its  commenferniMit  is  req^ilated  l>y  the  return  of  the  Wood- 
cock,  after  its  brief  August  niigriitiou  ;  aud,  the  period  of  that 
return  being  uncertain,  and  dei)endant  on  the  state  of  the  wea- 
ther, and  other  influences,  with  wliicli  we  are  not  fully  ac- 
quainted, tlie  sportsman  lias  only  to  bide  his  timo,  and  take  the 
season  as  he  finds  it. 

In  truth,  the  variati  m  of  the  autumnal  season  is  in  this  res- 
pect very  great,  as  regards  both  the  Woodcock  and  the  Snipe. 
1  have  shot  both  of  tliese  birds  together,  in  otmsitlerable  num- 
bers, on  the  same  ground,  so  early  as  the  12th  <u-  loth  of  Sep- 
tember; and  again,  in  other  seasons,  neither  tiie  one  nor  the 
other  bird  have  made  their  appearance  until  so  late  r.s  the  mid- 
dle of  October. 

As  a  general  rule,  however,  I  should  say  that  AVoodcock  be- 
gin to  return  to  the  Atlantic  States,  in  ordinary  seasons,  about 
the  middle  of  September,  ami  the  Snipe  about  the  first  of  Octo- 


'  :ii;,l 


510 


FRANK   FORESTER'S    FIELD   SPORTS. 


ber, — tlic  latter  bird  being  for  tlie  most  part  a  frvf  days  behind 
his  congener. 

It  is  very  well  worthy  of  remark,  both  by  the  sportsman  and 
the  scientific  ornithologist,  that  on  their  return  in  the  autumn, 
neither  the  Woodcork  nor  the  Snipe  are  found  precisely  on 
the  same  ground,  which  tliey  use  in  sjiring  ;  and  I  am  inclined 
to  believe,  that  a  more  thorough  investigation  of  this  fact,  might 
lead  to  the  acquisition  of  more  knowledge  than  we  possess  at 
present,  concerning  tlie  causes  of  the  migration  of  our  various 
birds  of  passage. 

In  my  articles  on  spring  Snipe,  and  summer  Cock  shooting, 
I  have  ohsei-ved  that  at  these  seasons  the  two  birds  frequently 
appear  to  change  their  habits  and  haunts  mutually  ;  tl.e  fonner 
beint?  vciv  often  found  in  low  brushwood,  and  amoncr  dense 
briar  patches,  and  the  latter,  even  more  commonly,  on  open, 
rushy,  wa  I  er  meadows,  without  a  bush  or  particle  of  coveit  in 
the  vicinity. 

In  no  rcsp(!ct  does  this  ever  happen  in  the  autumn.  I  have 
seen  no  instance  myself,  nor  have  I  heard  of  any  from  tlie  most 
constant  and  regular  country  sportsman,  who  liave  tlie  best  op- 
portunity of  noting  such  peculiarities,  of  the  Snipe  ever  resort- 
ing even  to  the  thinnest  covert  on  wood-edges,  much  less  to 
dense  coppices  and  tall  woodlands,  in  the  autumn.  Nor  have  T 
ever  seen  a  Woodcock  on  open  meadow  in  that  season. 

In  Salem  county,  in  New  Jersey,  this  latter  fact  is  very 
strongly  demonstrated ;  inasmuch  as  during  the  summer  the 
birds  are  lumted  entirely,  and  four-fifths  of  them  killed,  on  what 
would  elsewhere  be  called  regular  Snipe  ground,  or  in  small 
brakes  along  the  dykes  and  river  margins  ;  and  there  is  no  finer 
summer  Cock  ground  than  this  county,  in  the  whole  State. 

In  the  autumn,  on  the  contrary,  when  the  bird  seeks  other  lo- 
calities, there  is  little  or  no  covert,  such  as  he  loves,  to  be  found 
in  Salem,  and  of  consecjuenco,  there  is  little  or  no  autumn  Cock 
shooting  to  be  had  in  tlie  southern  district  of  New  Jersey. 

The  Snipe,  on  his  arrival,  betakes  himself  at  once  to  tlie  same 
ranges  of  country,  and  the  same  meadows,  as  in  the  S25ring ; 


very 

br  the 

li  wViat 

small 

I  finer 

lev  lo- 
ll'ouml 
Cock 

same 
In-ing ; 


tTPLANO   SHOOTINO. 


211 


and,  with  the  sole  exception  that  it  is  entirely  useless  to  look 
for  him  in  coppices,  or  along  springy  woodsides,  as  I  have  re- 
commended in  wild  weather  in  spring,  his  haunts  and  hahits 
nro  precisely  the  same. 

He  is  more  settled,  not  being  now  hurried  in  point  of  time, 
or  busied  about  the  pleasures  of  courtship,  or  the  cares  of  nidi- 
fi<;ation.  Ho  lies  harder  before  the  dog,  does  not  lly  so  far 
when  flushed,  and  feels  little  or  no  indiiiiition  to  ramble  about, 
but  adheres  steadily  to  one  feeding  ground,  uidess  driven  away 
from  it  by  persecution,  until  the  hard  frosts  of  winter  compel 
him  to  betake  himself  to  the  rice-fields  of  Georgia,  and  the 
muddy  margins  of  the  warm  savannah. 

Moreover,  the  weather  itself  being  at  this  time  steadier,  and 
less  mutable,  the  birds  are  much  loss  often  forced  to  move  from 
one  part  of  the  coimtry  to  another,  by  the  fitness  ( a- unfitness  of 
the  ground.  In  spring  one  year  the  meadows  are  too  wet,  and 
another  perhaps  too  dry, — both  conditions  being  ;it  times  car- 
ried to  such  an  excess,  as  to  drive  the  birds  oil"  altogether,  from 
the  impossibility  of  feeding  or  lying  comfortably.  In  iho  autumn 
this  is  rarely,  if  ever,  the  case  ;  and  although  autumn  shooting 
is,  of  course,  in  some  d(>gree  variable — rfnipe  being  more  abun- 
dant one  year  than  another — it  nev(!r  has  occurrt-d,  within  my 
observation,  that  the  flight  passes  <>n  altogether  without  pausing, 
or  giving  some  chance  of  sport,  more  or  less,  as  is  not  very  un- 
usually the  consequence  of  a  series  off  droughts  or  rains  in  the 
spring. 

The  Woodcock,  on  his  return  from  the  northward,  or  his  des- 
cent from  the  mountain-tops,  never,  as  a  ireneral  rule,  returns 
precisely  to  the  same  leeding  grounds  wliich  he  prefers  in  sum- 
mer, during  the  extreme  heats,  but  appears  to  prefer  dry  hill- 
sides, sloping  to  the  sun,  southerly  or  westward,  and  to  choose 
woods  of  yoimg  saplings,  or  sprouts,  as  they  are  commonly 
called  in  this  country,  tall,  wet  maple  groves,  and  second 
growth  of  oak,  adjacent  to  brook  or  meadow  feeding  grounds, 
rather  than  the  dense  coppice,  and  that  variety  of  brakes  and  in- 
tervales, or  glades,  which  he  kr/es  the  best  in  July.     Tliispeou- 


1^: 


II 'i' 


!       ! 


212 


FRANK    FORESTER  S    FIELD    SPORTS. 


liarlty  tciuIcis  lilm  a  more  agreeable  object  of  pursuit  at  this 
poridd  of  tlic  year,  the  rather  that  lie  is  now  found  often  in 
company  with  hevius  of  Quail,  and  that  almost  invariably  the 
latter  bird,  when  flushed  in  the  stubbles  where  he  feeds,  (lies 
for  shelter  to  the  very  covert  most  haunted  by  the  Wocjdcock. 

All  this  will,  however,  vary  more  or  less,  according  to  the 
nature  and  face  of  the  country  ;  for  where  there  is  excellent 
feeding  and  breeding  groun'.l,  not  interspersed  with  the  ferny 
hill-sides,  overgrown  wit'a  young,  thrifty,  thickset  woodland. 
Cock  do  not  desert  the  region,  but  are  found  almost  in  the  same 
haunts  as  in  summer. 

And  where  that  is  tie  case,  the  sportsman  may  note  this  dis- 
tinction, that  whereas  i;i  summer,  when  he  iv  s  once  killed  off 
clean  the  whole  of  the  one,  two,  or  three  broods,  which  frequent 
a  small  ])iece  of  coppice,  or  swamji  thicket,  it  will  be  utterly 
useless  for  him  to  beat  it  agahi,  he  may  now,  day  after  day,  kill 
every  bii-d  on  a  piece  of  good  feeding  ground,  and  will  still 
each  succeeding  morning  find  it  supplied  with  its  usual  com- 
plement. 

I  first  learned  this  fact  in  Orange  county,  where,  within  half 
a  mile  of  the  tavern  at  which  I  put  uj),  there  is  a  smnll,  dry, 
thoniy  i)rake,  with  a  few  tall  trees  on  it,  lying  on  a  sort  of 
island,  surrounded  by  a  veiy  wet  bog  meadow,  and  half  encir- 
cled b  V  a  muddy  streamlet,  overhung  with  thick  alders,  the 
whole  affair,  brake,  meadow,  and  all,  not  exceeding  three  or 
f«)ur  acres. 

I  knew  the  place  of  old  as  a  certain  summer-find  for  a  single 
brood  of  Cock.  In  0<  lober,  on  the  first  day  of  my  visit  to  the 
coMtilry,  I  beat  this  brake,  at  thnnving  oflT  in  the  morning,  and 
baggf'd  eleven  fine  ftiJf  birds — being  four  or  five  more  than  I 
expected — two  birds  went  away  wild  without  being  shot  !it,  and 
could  not  be  found  again.  On  the  following  day,  having  finished 
my  beat  early,  and  it  not  being  above  a  mile  out  of  my  way 
home,  I  thought  I  woidd  try  to  get  the  two  sur^nvors,  and  was 
much  and  most  ngree;il)ly  surprised  at  bagging  nine  birds,  all 
that  were  tluslied,  on  tlie  spot. 


u 


UPLAND    SHOOTING. 


213 


Being  quite  certain  that  these  were  new  comers,  and  tho 
brake  being  a  very  pretty  and  easy  place  in  which  to  got  shots, 
and  mark  birds,  I  l»eat  it  regularly,  cither  going  out,  or  coming 
liomo,  every  day  during  my  stay  iii  the  country,  and  baggcfi 
upon  it,  in  all,  sixty-tlu-ee  birds  in  six  successive  days. 

This  is  now  very  many  years  ago,  but  I  noted  tho  I'act  liom 
its  singularity  at  die  time  ;  and  I  hav(!  since  observed,  tlir.t  in 
cercain  liighly  I'avored  places,  tliis  maybe  regularly  lookrd  ibr; 
and  I  would  nevc'r  reconnneiid  a  sportsman,  sho'  ting  lu'i;  in  the 
aui.i.'^-'n.  particularly  after  the  nights  Iuitc;  begun  to  bo  fVosty,  to 
decline  trying  a  likely  piece  of  ground,  a  second,  or  e  -en  a 
third  or  fourth  time,  because  he  has  already  swept  it  cle  ir  of 
Woodcock.  Tt  docs  not,  of  course,  follow  of  all  ground  ivhatso- 
ever;  but  of  all  that  ground  which  is  the  most  l)el:»ved  by  the 
h.'rd,  it  is  unquestitmably  true  that  it  will  be  filled,  and  refilled, 
many  times  in  succession. 

This  is  certainly  a  curious  facr,  and  one  for  which  it  is  diffi- 
cvdt  to  account,  by  any  reasoni'.hle  mode  f)f  explainition.  The 
succession  of  so  many  bird:;,  is  in  itself  singular,  it  not  beincf  at 
all  apparent  where  is  the  reservoir  from  which  the  current  is 
supjilied.  It  was  not,  in  the  case  T  have  named,  iVom  other 
woods  in  the  neighborhood,  of  slightly  inlerior  excellence,  us 
feeding  ground,  for  these  were  not  deserted  ;  and,  if  we  suppose 
that  the  fresh  supplies  came  in  consecutively  from  the  north- 
ward by  long  flights,  how  should  they  have  been  able  to  time 
themselves  so  exactly,  as  to  come  on  the  very  nights  when  the 
haunt  was  vacant,  and  at  their  service  ? 

On  the  other  hand,  if  we  adopt  the  idea  that  the  descent  is 
only  from  the  neighboring  mountain  tops,  why  shouid  theso  wait 
patiently  until  the  others  were  killed  ofl"  to  tlieir  hands,  instead 
of  pouring  down  into  the  place  in  a  body,  and  there  remaining 
until  the  supply  of  food,  which  renders  it  so  favorite  a  haunt, 
should  be  exhausted  I 

Such,  however,  is  invarialdy  the  case  in  such  localities,  and  I 
never  but  once  in  my  life  observed  anything  like  iijloc/c  of  these 
birds.     That  once,  in  a  ve>'y  wet  j)lace,  on  the  edge  of  a  heavy 


■j  'l^- 


I    '    !     ! 


i 


I  I 


314 


FRANK    FORESTE..  6    .'ELD    SPORTS. 


Bwamp,  where  a  huge  spring,  which  never  freezes,  hursts  out 
and  percolates  through  the  vegetahle  soil  for  a  distance  of  a 
hundred  yards,  or  a  little  more,  hefore  gathering  itself  into  a 
siuffle  channel,  I  saw  at  least  a  hundred  hirds  rise  within  three 
minutes.  It  was  very  late  in  the  season,  the  Gth  or  Sth  of  No- 
vcmher,  and  sharp  frost  had  already  set  in,  and  it  was  so  late 
in  the  afternoon  that  it  was  almost  dark.  I  was  shooting  with 
a  friend,  who  had  a  young  dog  which  could  not  be  controlled 
from  running  in  ;  and  all  the  hirds  were  ilushed  at  two  rises, 
each  of  us  getting  two  double  shots.  The  Woodcock  settled 
down  all  over  the  large  swamp,  but  it  was  too  dark  to  follow 
them  ;  and  the  next  morning,  it  having  been  an  intensely  hard 
black  frost  at  night,  not  a  bird  was  to  be  found  in  the  country. 
Had  we  come  upon  that  flight  earlier  in  the  day,  and  with  old, 
steady  dogs,  the  sport  might  have  been  incalculable. 

I  have  always  believed,  however,  that  to  be  an  instance  of 
actual  migration  ;  and  I  am  well  satisfied  all  those  birds  had 
dropped  in,  from  a  long  flight  from  the  north,  whence  they  had 
been  expelled  by  the  severe  cold,  with  no  intention  of  stopping 
longer  than  to  recruit  themselves  by  a  single  day's  repose. 
Alter  that  night  no  more  birds  were  seen  in  that  part  of  the 
country,  until  the  breaking  of  the  ensuing  winter. 

One  other  point  appears  to  be  worthy  of  remark,  with  regard 
to  the  autumnal  migration  of  Cock,  on  their  way  southward, 
namely,  that  sometimes,  particularly  when  the  winter  sets  in 
unusually  early  and  severe  on  the  sea-board,  and  south  of  the 
mountains,  the  flight  of  Cock  come  down  all  nearly  at  once,  and 
in  one  direction,  avoiding  whole  ranges  of  country,  and  abso- 
lutely swarming  in  other  regions.  A  few  seasons  since,  when 
the  northern  and  river  counties,  so  far  down  as  Rockland,  were 
covered  with  snow,  which  lay  two  or  three  dpy.«,  in  the  first 
week  of  October,  no  more  Woodcock  were  found  that  autumn 
in  that  district,  or  in  Eastern  New  Jersey,  quite  down  to  the 
sea,  while  they  literally  abounded  on  the  eastern  side  of  the 
Hudson,  and  were  killed  in  pn^fusion  throughout  Westchestei, 
and  even  within  a  few  miles  of  New  York  city. 


UPLAND    SHOOTING. 


215 


The  cause  of  this,  I  suppose  to  bccxplicjiblc  thus, — lluit  there 
If,  iu  fcict,  always  a  two-tblcl  migration  of  Woodcock  in  tlie 
autumn,  that  of  the  birds  l)re(l  in  these  districts,  whicli,  having 
absented  tliemselvcs  during  the  mouU,  return  immediately,  that 
over,  to  the  vicinity  of  their  resting-places,  and  remain  through- 
out tlie  autumn, — and  that  of  tlie  birds  bred  very  far  nortli  of 
us,  which  tarry  at  the  north  so  long  as  the  weather  will  permit, 
and  then  visit  us  for  a  few  days,  more  or  less,  according  to  the 
state  of  the  country  iind  the  temperature,  but  never  make  any 
protracted  sojourn  witli  us. 

In  such  a  case  as  that  which  I  have  mentioned,  the  home-I)red 
birds  are  probably  driven  southward  at  once  by  tlie  temporiiry 
local  snow-storm,  while  the  northern  flights,  not  having  been 
forced  to  move,  tarry  till  the  last,  and  then  hurry  off,  pitching 
only  for  a  single  day  to  rest  themselves,  and  resuming  their 
progress  every  night. 

Woodcock  and  Snipe  both,  it  is  hardly  necessary  to  observe, 
are  in  a  great  measure  nocturnal  biids,  and  almost  invariably 
make  all  their  long  voyages,  and  usually  even  their  casual  trips 
from  one  feeduio;  Qfround  to  another,  between  sunset  and  sun- 
rise.  T  have  occasionally  seen  Snijie  travelling  high  in  the  air, 
in  small  whisps,  during  the  day  time  in  dark  foggy  weatliev 
with  small  rain  falling;  but  I  have  never  known  Woodcock  to 
move  their  quarters,  unless  violently  aroused,  until  it  is  almost 
too  dark  to  distiuojuish  them  on  the  wing. 

The  weather,  in  which  both  these  swift  passengers  love  best 
to  roam,  is  dull,  hazy,  and  sometimes  even  rainy,  and  that  com- 
monly on  tli^;  bieaking  of  a  north-easterly  storm.  This  is  par- 
ticularly the  case  with  the  Snipe,  and  in  the  spring.  In  fact,  I 
have  never  known  them  abundant  on  the  meadows  until  after 
two  or  three  days  cold  heavy  rain,  and  to  there  having  been  no 
such  storm  tnis  present  yeai",  I  attribute,  in  a  great  measure, 
the  extreire  scarcity  of  Snipe. 

It  is  a  little  singular,  however,  that,  while  these  birds  prefer 
thick  and  hazy  weather,  they  almost  always  choose  moonlight 
nights,  and  fly  most  when  the  moon  is  near  the  full.     AVlien 


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tlio  sprirtsmiin  is  so  fortunuto  us  to  iiiul  liiinsclf  iiiv.Jivd  wWa 
that  most  drlicidUB  to  the  st'iist-s,  and  most  h)Vi!ly  to  tlic  fye,  of 
all  wt'iithcr,  which  \vc  know  as  Indian  .Sunimi'r,  at  the  lull 
of  tho  October  moon,  ho  may  count  himself  almost  certain 
of  fiiidiiiu;  the  coverts  well  stocked  with  Woodcock.  I  have 
fre(]iieiitly  acted  on  tliis  indication  myself,  and,  in  spite  of  being 
warned  liy  letters  from  the  country  that  Cock  had  not  come  on, 
have  set  out  from  the  city,  relying  on  tin-  combination  of  the 
pur2)le  haze  with  the  full  October  moon,  veiled  in  sol't  silver  fur 
the  nonce,  and  have  raicly  been  disappoiiit<;d  of  yood  sport. 

In  all  other  resj)ects,  the  pursuit  of  ^\'oodco(•l^,  the  mode  of 
hunting  them,  and  the  style  of  killing  them,  dilii'r  in  nothing 
now  from  the  methods  to  be  used  in  summer.  The  birds  are, 
of  course,  far  stronger  on  the  wing,  as  they  arc  now  full  grown, 
and  instead  of  dodging  about  in  the  buslies  and  dropping  with- 
in twenty  yards  of  the  muzzle  of  a  gun  just  discharged,  will 
soar  away  over  the  tree  tops,  and  sometimes  lly  half  a  mile  at 
a  stretch. 

The  dilliculty  of  killing  them,  is  therefore  increased,  although 
the  absence  of  the  green  leaf  affords  a  fairer  view  of  them,  and 
the  man  who  makes  a  large  bag  must  depend  more  on  unaj) 
sliots  tlian  on  fair  chances  over  steady  points. 

In  this  place  it  will  not  be  improper  to  insert  a  slight  notice 
and  drscriplion  of  the  mode  generally  ado])ted  for  the  killing  of 
Woodcock  in  Louisiana,  Mississippi  and  the  other  Southwestern 
States,  l)y  what  is  termed  "  Fire-hunting." 

This  practice  is  njsorted  to,  in  some  degree,  as  a  matter  of 
necessity,  owing  to  the  fact  that,  in  these  regions  which  are  the 
favorite  winter  home  of  the  bird  in  (juestion,  he  frecjuents 
during  the  day  only  the  most  impracticable  cane-brakes  and 
morasses,  from  which  it  is  only  by  dint  of  the  severest  labor 
that  he  can  be  dislodged. 

Until  very  recently  no  other  mode  of  shooting  Woodcock 
was  practised  at  all  in  these  states,  as  it  was  regarded  as  im- 
possible to  pursue  them  with  any  success  during  the  day  lime 
in  their  gloomy  and  difficult  fastnesses.     Of  late  years,  however. 


UPLAND   SHOOTING. 


217 


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r! 


us  min'lit  hnvc.  hcoii  exported,  it  has  liriii  (It'inoiistnitod  by 
{jdod  spnrtsinnn,  that  Cock  can  ht-  killed  nvor  Setters — Spaniels 
would  (Inul)tliss  he  yot  preleraltle — in  those  states  as  elsf'- 
wheii',  and  the  correct,  leu;itimafc  and  :  portsinanliko  method  ot' 
liiuitinu;  theni  with  dous  is,  of  consecpicnce,  coining  into  voifue, 
soon,  I  (hiuht  not,  entirely  to  supersede  the  "  Fire-hunting" 
system,  which  althouifli  it  may  ho  good  tun  enough,  i'or  onco  or 
twice,  can  only  he  regarded  as  a  species  of  poaching,  or  pot- 
hunting;  palliated  or  perliaps  in  some  sort  legitimatized  by 
the  necessities  of  the  case. 

Throughout  this  rogiou,  as  I  have  said,  during  the  day  this 
more  than  half  nocturnal  b'rd  is  not  to  he  seen  at  all  without  the 
confines  of  the  dense  and  tangled  brakes  on  the  edges  of  the 
dce[)  bayous  and  morasses,  neM-r  ilyintf  abroad  into  the  opiMi, 
and  contenting  itself  with  nibbling  the  nnid,  and  picking  up  a 
little  chance  food  in  its  hirking  phues. 

No  sooner  is  it  dark,  however,  than  out  the  Woodcocks  come 
by  thousands  from  their  fastnesses,  and,  jntching  down  on  all 
sides  in  the  old  fields  and  mai/e-stubbles,  apply  themselves  to 
nibbling  and  boring  in  the  soft,  rich  loam  for  their  succulent 
worm-diet. 

H(neupon  the  fire-hunt  commences — with  gun  and  game-bag, 
powder-flask  and  shot-pouch,  and  all  appliances  and  means 
xrcniKhim  arfcni,  the  sportsman  sallies  forth  ;  but  no  silky-haired, 
high-strung,  sagacious  Setter,  no  satin-skiimed,  rat-tailed,  obe- 
dient Pointer  follows  his  master's  heel.  In  lieu  of  Don  or 
Sancho,  an  old,  crafty,  grizzle-pated,  merry  negro,  comes  forth, 
erpiipped  with  the  brazen  vessel  of  a  warming-pan,  or  the  like 
instrument,  set  erect  on  a  pole  of  some  ten  or  twelve  feet  in 
length,  filled  with  light  wood,  pine  knots,  or  such  like  bright, 
burning  combustibles. 

Arrived  on  the  feeding  ground,  a  light  is  applied  ;  the  quick 
fuel  sends  out  a  broad,  ruddy  glare  ;  and,  as  the  bearer  slowly 
circumambulates  the  field,  a  circle  of  intense  lustre  is  shed  for 
ten  yards  around  him,  rendering  every  object  more  clearly 
visible  than  at  noon-day.     The  shooter  walks  close  to  the  fire- 


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FRANK    FonESTEIl  K  FIELD    NPOUTS. 


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Iteiiror,  on  liis  riirlit  liaml,  and  ever  and  anon  a.s  tlio  circular 
glare  passivs  nlonj^  over  the  surface  of  tlio  ground,  liis  eye 
detects  the  Woodcock,  croudiinir  close  to  the  earlli,  and  ga/ing 
with  its  full,  fascinated  eye  ui)on  the  stranufe  illumiuiition. 
Tlie  noxf  instant  up  it  spriiis^s,  diz/y  and  confused  and  soaiiiijr 
upward  toward  the  light.  It  is  seen  for  a  second,  and  then  is 
lost  in  the  surrounding  darkness;  hut  of  that  one  quick  second 
the  sportsman  takes  advantage ;  and  hy  a  snap  shot  culs  him 
down,  with  a  light  charge;  never  killing  a  bird  at  above  ten 
paces  distant,  and  often  bagging  his  hundred  in  a  single  even- 
.ng's  work. 

This  mode  of  Cock-shooting,  arises,  as  it  is  evident,  ex  vi'ces- 
sitatc  re'i,  and  may  for  a  whik!  be  sufiiciently  exciting.  It  must, 
however,  lack  all  that  variety,  which  is  the  great  charm  of  our 
northern  shooting  ;  variety,  which  arises  from  the  working  of 
the  emulous,  obedient,  and  well-trained  dogs,  in  observing 
whose  exquisite  instinct,  fine  attitudes  and  beautiful  docility, 
me  jiidicc,  lies  half  the  pleasure  of  field  sports  ;  and  which, 
together  wilh  the  lovely  scenery,  tl.e  brisk,  breezy  air,  and  the 
exulting  sense  of  persmal  independence,  and  personal  power, 
springing  from  these  and  from  the  glow  of  clieerful  exercise, 
renders  them  to  active,  energetic  and  enthusiastic  minds  the 
first  of  pleasures,  and  almost  a  necessary  relief  from  the  dull 
monotony  of  evcry-day  existence. 

This  brings  us  to  Quail  shooting,  and  to  what  is  the  climax 
of  all  our  field  sport  "^,  that  mixed,  wild,  autumn  shooting,  in  one 
day  of  which,  the  laborious  woodman  may  kill  on  one  range, 
Quail,  Woodcock,  Ruffed  Grouse,  Hare,  Snipe,  and  some  two 
or  three  varieties  of  Wild  Duck. 

I  have  had  many  a  good  day's  sport  in  many  countries,  but 
above  everything  that  I  have  ever  seen,  or  expect  to  see  again, 
give  me  a  day  of  lough  and  tumble  autumn  shooting,  such  as 
it  was  ten  years  ago  in  Orange  county,  and  such  as  it  may  per- 
haps be  again,  for  a  short  time,  when  the  Erie  railroad  shall 
first  give  us  access  to  tlie  southern  tier  of  counties.  Me  jndice, 
there  is  nr)thing  like  it  in  the  wild  world. 


UPLAND  SHOOTiNO. 


219 


QUAIL    SHOOTING. 


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1 1  WE  already,  under  my  list  of  Upland 
(Jaiiio,  fjivcM  a  Cull  di'sciiption  of  this 
lovely  little  bird  from  the  pajroa  of  Audu- 
bon and  Wilsdii. 

Both  of  these  authors  lean  to  the  south- 
ern fasliion  of  calliii!:;  this  bird  a  I'ar- 
tridj^e.  Now  the  truth  of  tlic  matt(>r  is 
simply  this,  that  the  bird  in  question  is 
jiraperfy  and  accurately  neither  one  nor  the  other,  but  a  distinct 
spceius,  pnssossinir  no  Kiiirlish  name  whatever.  The  oriiithoh)- 
gical  name  uf  the  Partridge  is  Pcrdi.r,  of  the  Quail  Cohirnix,  o\ 
the  American  bird,  disti'ict  from  either,  Ortyx.  The  latter 
nam(!  bein<f  the  Greek  word,  as  Coturnix  is  the  Latin  word, 
meanini;  <i<iail.  It  is,  of  course,  impossible  to  talk  almut  kiU- 
inc^  Orti/JTs,  or  more  correctly  Or'i/gcs,  we  must  therefore, 
l^erforce  call  these  birds  cither  Quail  or  Partridire. 

Now  as  both  tlie  European  Partridges  are  considerably  more 
than  douI)le  the  si/e  of  tlic  American  bird,  as  they  are  never  in 
any  country  migraton/,  and  as  they  diili-r  from  the  Ortyx  in  not 
bavinj?  the  same  woodland  habits,  in  cry  and  in  plumage  ;  while 
in  size,  and  in  beinir  a  bird  of  passage,  the  European  Quail 
exactly  resembles  that  of  America ;  resembling  it  in  all  other- 
respects  far  more  closely  than  the  Partridge  proper — I  canno 
for  ii  moment  hesitate  in  saying  that  American  Quail  is  the 
correct  and  proper  English  name  for  the  Ortjix  Virginiana,  and 
T  lonceive  that  the  naturalists  who  first  distinguished  him  from 
the  Quail  with  which  he  was  originally  classed,  sanction  this 


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FRANK   FOTIESTER'S   FIELD   SPOUTS. 


E'ltrlisli  nomenclature  by  giving  lam  a  scientific  title  directly 
analogous  to  Quail,  and  not  to  Partridge. 

I  should  as  soon  tliink  myself  of  calling  the  bird  a  Turkey  as 
a  Partridge,  and  I  shall  ever  hold  that  the  question  is  entirely 
Bet  at  rest,  and  that  the  tnie  name  of  this  dear  little  bird  in  the 
vernacular  is  American  Quail  ;  and  his  country  has  better  rea- 
son to  be  proud  of  him,  than  she  has  of  many  of  her  sons  who 
make  much  more  noise  in  the  world  than  our  favorite  Bob- 
White. 

While  on  this  sidiject,  I  may  obseiTC — for  the  benefit  of  our 
northern  sportsmen,  many  of  whom  I  have  heard  positively 
assert  that  the  Quail  is  not  migratory — that  every  where  west 
of  the  Delaware  he  is  as  distinctly  a  bird  of  migration  as  the 
Woodcock,  and  the  farther  west  the  more  palpably  so.  Why 
he  loses  these  habits  with  us  of  the  Middle  States  I  cannot 
guess,  nor  has  any  naturalist  so  much  as  alluded  to  the  fact, 
which  is  nevertheless  indisputable. 

It  will  be  seen  at  once,  from  the  foregoing  description,  that 
our  American  Quail  is  a  most  beautiful  little  bird;  but  his 
beauties  do  not  consist  merely  in  his  plumage,  but  in  his  gait, 
his  pretty  pert  movements,  his  gi-eat  vivacity,  his  joyous  atti- 
tudes, his  constant  and  cheerful  activity. 

He  is  in  all  respects  the  most  social,  the  merriest,  and  most 
amiable  of  his  tribe.  During  tire  breeding  season,  he  alone,  of 
the  gallinaceous  tribe,  makes  wood  and  mead  resound  with 
his  shrill,  merry  whistle,  whence  our  country  fidk  have  framed 
to  him  a  name  Boh -White,  from  some  fancied  similarity  of 
sound,  cheering  his  faithful  partner  during  the  toils  of  incti- 
bation. 

Afterward,  when  the  bevies  are  collected,  as  ho  runs  from 
the  huddle  in  which  he  has  passed  the  night,  he  salutes  his 
brcfthren,  perhaps  thanks  his  Creator,  for  the  pleasant  dawn, 
with  the  most  cheerful  noise  that  can  be  fancied,  a  short,  quick, 
happy  cheeping,  "  and  seems  to  be,"  to  borrow  the  words  of 
the  inimitable  Audubon,  I  quote  from  memory  alone,  "the 
happiest  little  creature  in  the  universe." 


UPLAND    SHOOTING. 


221 


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The  Quail  is  not  only  the  most  sociahle  of  his  tribe  in  refer- 
ence to  his  fellows,  but  is  by  far  the  most  tameable  and  friendly 
in  his  disposition  as  regards  the  general  enemy  and  universal 
tyrant,  man. 

In  the  winter  season,  when  the  gi'ound  is  so  deeply  covered 
with  snow  as  to  render  it  impossible  for  them  to  obtain  their 
customary  food,  the  seeds  namely  of  the  various  grasses,  which 
they  love  the  most,  or  the  grains  which  lie  scattered  in  the  stub- 
bles, they  come  naturally  into  the  vicinity  of  man's  dwellings; 
and  it  is  by  no  means  an  unusual  sight  to  perceive  tliem  run- 
ning about  among  the  domestic  fowls  in  the  barn-yard,  and 
flying  up,  if  suddenly  disturbed,  to  perch  under  the  rafters  of 
some  bam  or  out-house,  secimingly  fearless,  and  confident,  in 
such  seasons,  of  protection. 

During  the  whole  of  last  winter,  I  had  a  bevy  of  thirteen 
birds,  lying  within  three  or  four  hundred  yards  of  the  room  in 
which  1  sit  writing,  under  the  shelter  of  a  rough,  wooded  bank, 
whereon  I  fed  them  with  buckwheat  after  the  heavy  snows  had 
fallen  ;  and  they  became  so  tame,  that  they  would  allow  me  to 
approach  within  twenty  paces  of  the  spot  where  tliey  were  fed, 
running  about  and  picking  up  the  triangular  seeds,  perfectly 
unconcerned  at  my  presence.  As  soon,  however,  as  the  spring 
commenced,  and  the  bevy  separated  themselves  into  pairs,  their 
wild  habits  returned  upon  them ;  and  I  have  seen  no  more  of 
my  little  friends. 

The  Quail  pairs  in  the  month  of  March,  or  even  earlier,  if 
the  winter  has  been  a  mild  one,  and  the  ground  at  that  period 
is  free  from  its  snowy  winter  covering  ;  if,  on  the  contrary, 
the  spring  is  very  late  and  backward,  his  courtship  is  deferred 
until  April. 

As  soon  as  he  has  chosen  to  himself  a  mate,  the  happy  pair 
retreat  to  wide,  open,  iiishy  meadows,  where  the  conformation 
of  the  country  affords  them  such  retirement,  among  the  tussocks 
of  which  they  love  to  bask  in  the  spring  sunshine.  AVliere  the 
land  lies  higher,  and  is  ^broken  into  knolls  and  gulleys,  you  will 
fuid  them  at  this  season  on  the  grassy  banks  beside  some  shel- 


•  'i 


1-^ 


229 


FRANK   forester's   FIELD   SPORTS. 


I': 


tered  hedge-row,  or  along  the  green  and  shrubby  margin  of 
Bome  sequestered  streamlet ;  but  never  in  thick  woodlands,  and 
rarely  in  open  fields. 

Most  birds,  so  soon  as  they  have  paired,  proceed  at  mce  In 
the  duties  of  nidification  and  the  rearing  of  their  young;  it 
seems  to  me,  however,  that  the  Quail  spend  some  time  in  pairs 
before  proceeding  to  this  task;  for  I  have  frequently  seen 
them  in  jiairs  so  early  as  the  twentieth  of  March,  yet  I  have 
never  found  the  Hen  sitting,  or  a  nest  with  eggs  in  it,  during 
spring  Snipe  shooting,  though  I  have  often  flushed  the  paired 
birds  on  the  same  ground  with  the  long-billed  emigrants. 

I  have  never,  indeed,  seen  a  Quail's  nest  earlier  than  the 
middle  of  May,  and  have  often  found  them  sitting  as  late  as  the 
end  of  July. 

Their  nest  is  inartificial,  made  of  grasses,  and  situate  for  the 
most  part  under  the  shelter  of  a  stump  or  tussock  ii  -  inc  wiUl 
meadows,  or  near  the  bushy  margin  of  some  clover  field  or 
orchard.  The  Hen  lays  from  ten  to  two-and-twenty  eggs,  and 
is  relieved  at  times,  in  hatching  them,  by  the  male  bird  ;  who 
ccmstantly  keeps  guard  around  her,  now  sitting  on  the  bough  of 
the  nearest  tree,  now  perched  on  the  top  rail  of  a  snake  fence, 
making  the  woods  and  hills  resound  with  his  loud  and  cheery 
whistle. 

The  period  of  the  Quails'  incubation,  I  do  not  know  correctly  ; 
the  young  birds  run  the  moment  they  burst  from  the  egg;  and 
it  is  not  uncommon  to  see  them  tripping  about  with  pieces  of 
the  shell  adhering  to  their  backs. 

The  first  brood  hatched,  and  fairly  on  foot,  the  hen  proceeds 
at  once  to  the  preparation  of  a  second  nest ;  and  committing 
the  care  of  the  early  younglings  to  her  mate,  or  rather  dividing 
with  him  the  duties  of  rearing  the  first,  and  hatching  the  second 
bevy,  she  devotes  herself  incessantly  to  her  maternal  duties. 

So  far  as  I  can  ascertain,  the  Quail  almost  invariably  raises  a 
second,  and  sometimes,  I  believe,  even  a  third  brood  in  a  single 
season.  Hence,  if  unmolested,  they  increase  with  extra ordir.ary 
rapidity,  when  the  seasons  are   propitious.      It  is,    however, 


UPLAND  SHOOTING. 


983 


ctly ; 

and 

of 


equally  certain  that,  under  other  circumstances,  they  suirerniore 
severely  in  this  region  of  coruitry,  than  any  otlierbird  of  game; 
and  that  in  unfavorable  seasons  they  run  great  danger  of  being 
altoirethcr  annihilated.  The  fear  of  tliis  result  has  led  to  what 
I  consider  hasty  and  inconsiderate  legislation  on  the  sidyect. 

Long  severe  snows,  when  the  country  is  buried  many  feet 
deep,  and  he  can  procure  no  sustenance,  save  from  the  preca- 
rious charity  of  man,  famishes  him  outright — heavy  drifts,  espe- 
cially when  succeeded  by  a  partial  thaw,  and  a  frost  following 
the  thaw,  stillcs  him,  in  whole  bevies  encased  in  icy  prison- 
houses. 

It  is  the  peculiar  habit  of  this  bird  to  lie  still,  squatted  in  C(m- 
centric  huddles,  as  they  are  technically  called,  composed  of  the 
whole  bevy,  seated  like  the  radii  of  a  circle,  with  their  tails  in- 
ward, so  long  as  snow,  sleet,  or  rain  continues  to  fall.  So  soon 
as  it  clears  off,  and  the  sun  shines  out,  with  a  simultaneous 
effort,  probably  at  a  preconcerted  signal,  they  all  spring  up  at 
once  with  an  impetus  and  rush,  so  powerful,  as  carries  them 
clear  through  a  snow-drift  many  feet  in  depth ;  unless  it  be 
skinned  over  by  a  frozen  crust,  which  is  not  to  be  penetrated  by 
their  utmost  efforts.  In  this  latter  case,  where  the  storm  has 
been  general  over  a  large  extent  of  country,  the  Quail  are  not 
unfrequently  so  near  to  extinction,  that  but  a  bevy  or  two  will 
be  seen  for  years,  on  ground  where  previously  they  nave  been 
found  in  abundance ;  and  at  such  times,  if  they  be  not  spared 
and  cherished,  as  they  will  be  by  all  true  sportsmen,  they  may 
be  destroyed  entirely  throughout  a  whole  region. 

This  was  the  case  especially,  through  all  this  section  of  the 
country,  in  the  tremendous  winter  of  1835-'36,  when  these  birds, 
which  had  been  previously  very  abundant,  were  almost  aimihi- 
lated ;  and  would  have  been  so,  doubtless,  but  for  the  anxiety 
which  was  felt  generally,  and  the  energetic  means  which  were 
taken  to  preseiTe  them. 

Another  peril,  which  at  times  decimates  the  bi-eed  for  a  sea- 
son, is  a  sudden  and  violent  land-flood  in  June  and  July,  which 
drowns  the  young  broods  ;  or  a  continuance  of  cold,  showery, 
VOL.  I.  17 


m 


FRANK    FORESTER  S   FIELD    SPORTS. 

weather,  in  tliose  ami  the  preceding  months,  which  addles  the 
eggs,  and  destroys  the  early  bevy.  This  is,  however,  hut  a  par- 
tial evil, — as  the  Quail  rears  a  second  brood,  and,  ns  I  have  be- 
fore observed,  sometimes  a  third  ;  so  that  in  this  case  the  num- 
ber of  birds  for  the  season  is  diminished,  without  the  tribe  being 
endangered. 

The  open  winters,  which  have  prevailed  latterly,  have  been 
exceedingly  favorable  to  the  increase  of  this  beautifid  and  pro- 
lific little  bird.  Never,  perhaps,  have  they  been  more  abundant 
than  they  were  last  autumn ;  and  as  the  winter  has  been  in  all 
respects  the  most  propitious  ever  known,  there  having  been 
scarcely  a  single  fall  of  snow  of  any  magnitude,  and  no  crust  in 
any  instance  to  molest  them,  there  is  every  likelihood  of  a  fine 
stock  next  autumn  being  raised  throughout  the  Middle  States. 

A  little  judicious  legislation — a  little  energy  combined  with 
careful  consideration  of  the  subject,  and  mutual  concession  on 
the  part  of  true  sportsmen,  might  possibly  now  prcsen-e  this 
very  interesting  native  American  from  the  total  extinction  that 
threatens  him. 

It  is  quite  clear,  that  neither  idle  good  wishes,  nor  faineant 
despair,  will  do  so.  One  bad  winter,  and  the  present  state  of 
things,  will  settle  the  question  for  us, — but  the  wrong  way  ! 

Unlike  the  young  broods  of  the  Woodcock,  which  are  mute, 
save  the  twitter  with  which  they  rise,  the  bevies  of  Quail  appear 
to  be  attached  to  each  other  by  tender  affection.  If  dispersed 
by  accidental  causes,  either  in  pursuit  of  their  food,  or  from 
being  flushed  by  some  casual  intruder,  so  soon  as  their  first 
alarm  has  passed  over,  they  begin  calling  to  each  other  with  a 
small  plaintive  note,  quite  different  from  the  amorous  whistle 
of  the  male  bird,  and  from  their  meiry  daybreak  cheeping ;  and, 
each  one  running  toward  the  sound,  and  repeating  it  at  inter- 
vals, they  soon  collect  themse'ves  together  into  one  happy  little 
family,  the  circle  of  which  remains  unbroken,  until  the  next 
spring,  with  the  genial  weather,  brings  matrimonial  ardors,  pair- 
ing and  courtship,  and  the  hope  of  future  bevies. 

Il',  however,  the  ruthless  sportsman  has  been  among  them. 


UPLAND    SHOOTING. 


225 


with  his  well-trained  Setter  and  unerring  gini,  bo  that  death  has 
sorely  thinned  their  numbers,  they  will  protract  their  little  call 
for  their  lost  comrades,  even  to  night-fall ;  and  in  such  cases — 
I  know  not  if  it  be  a  fancy  on  my  part — there  has  often  seemed 
to  me  to  be  an  unusual  degree  of  melancholy  in  their  wailing 
whistle. 

Once  this  struck  mo  especially.  I  had  found  a  small  bevy  of 
thirteen  birds  in  an  orchard,  close  to  the  house  in  wJiich  I  was 
passing  a  portion  of  the  autumn,  and  in  a  very  few  minutes 
killed  twelve  of  them,  for  they  lay  hard  in  the  tedded  clover, 
and  it  was  perfectly  open  shooting.  The  thirteenth  and  last 
bird,  rising  with  two  others,  which  I  killed  right  and  left,  flew 
but  a  short  distance,  and  dropped  among  some  sumachs  in  the 
corner  of  a  mil  fence.  I  could  have  shot  him  certainly  enough, 
but  some  imdefined  feeling  induced  me  to  call  my  dogs  to  heel, 
and  spare  his  little  life  ;  yet  afterward  I  almost  regretted  what 
I  certainly  intended  at  the  time  to  be  mercy  ;  for  day  after  day, 
so  long  as  I  remained  in  the  country,  I  heard  his  sad  call,  from 
mom  till  dewy  eve,  crying  for  his  departed  friends,  and  full 
apparently  of  memory,  which  is,  alas !  but  too  often  another 
name  for  soitow. 

It  is  a  singular  proof  how  strong  is  the  passion  for  the  chase, 
and  the  love  of  pursuit,  implanted  by  nature  in  the  heart  of 
man,  that  however  much,  when  not  influenced  by  the  direct 
heat  of  sport,  we  deprecate  the  killing  of  these  little  birds,  and 
pity  the  individual  sufferers, — the  moment  the  dog  points,  and 
the  bevy  springs,  or  the  propitious  morning  promises  good 
sport,  all  the  compunction  is  forgotten  in  the  eagerness  and 
emulation  which  are  natural  to  our  race. 

It  is  also  worthy  of  remark,  thf.t  in  spite  of  his  apparent 
tameness  at  peculiar  seasons,  and  his  willingness  to  be  half  na- 
turalized, the  Quail  has  hitherto  defied  all  attempts  at  perfect 
domestication,  and  has,  I  believe,  never  been  known  to  breed 
in  confinement, — this  peculiarity  going,  perhaps,  some  way  to 
render  \nm  fair  gavxe. 

Of  all  birds,  in  this  or  any  other  country,,  so  far  as  I  know 


'•:■■  >p 


:a; 


I' 


■|     [ 


I    l\ 


236 


FRANK    FOHESTEH  S    FIELD    SPORTS. 


from  personal  cxjicrienco,  or  have  liearil  from  others  more  com- 
petent to  pronoimce  on  the  subject,  the  Quail  is  the  most  difli- 
cult  both  to  find  and  to  kill  with  certainty. 

Bred  in  the  open  fields,  and  feeding  early  in  the  morning, 
and  late  in  the  afternoon,  on  buckwheat  and  other  grain  stub' 
bles,  during  all  the  rest  of  the  day,  the  bevies  lie  huddled  up  to- 
gether in  little  knots,  either  in  some  small  thorny  brake,  or 
under  the  covert  of  the  grassy  tussocks  itj  some  bog  meadow. 

The  small  compass  that  each  bevy  occupies,  while  thus  indo- 
lently digesting  their  morning  meal,  renders  it  very  easy  for  the 
best  dogs  to  pass  within  six  yards  of  them,  without  discovering 
their  whereabout ;  and,  consequently,  even  wlicre  the  counti*y 
is  well  stocked  with  bevies,  it  is  not  an  uncommon  thing  to  toil 
a  whole  day  through,  without  raising  one-half  the  birds  which 
have  fed  in  the  morning  on  your  range. 

Again,  when  flushed  in  the  open,  these  birds  immediately  fly 
to  the  thickest  and  most  impenetrable  covert  they  cpn  find  ;  and 
in  some  sections  of  the  country  in  which  I  have  shot,  Maryland 
especially,  that  covert  is  of  such  a  nature,  so  interwoven  with 
parasitic  creepers,  cat  briars,  and  wild  vines,  and  so  thickly  set 
with  knotted  and  thorny  brushwood,  that  they  can  nm  with  im- 
punity before  the  noses  of  your  Pointers  or  Setters,  and  that, 
without  the  aid  of  cocking  Spaniels,  which  are  little  used  in  the 
United  States,  they  cannot  be  forced  to  take  wing. 

These  birds  have  another  singular  quality,  which  renders 
them  exceedingly  diflicult  to  find,  even  when  they  have  been  ac- 
curately marked  down  after  being  once  flushed.  It  is,  that  for 
some  considerable  time  after  they  have  alighted,  they  give  forth 
no  scent  whatsoever,  and  that  the  very  best  dogs  will  fail  to  give 
any  sign  of  their  presence. 

Whether  this  retention  of  scent  is  voluntary  on  the  part  of  the 
bird.  It  is  very  diflicult  to  ascertain.  It  is  a  very  strange  power, 
if  it  be  voluntary,  yet  not  more  strange  than  many  others  of  the 
instincts  possessed  by  wild  animals. 

There  is  one  thing  which  would  lead  to  the  conclusion  that  it 
is  voluntary,  or  at  least  that  the  bird  is  conscious  of  the  fact. 


UPLAND  SIIOOTINO. 


227 


This  is,  that  umlcr  these  circumstances,  the  birds  will  not  rise 
at  all,  until  they  iiru  literally  almost  trodden  upon.  It  was  vei-y 
long  before  I  could  bring  myself  to  believe  in  the  existence  of 
this  singular  power  of  8uj)pression  ;  and  very  many  times,  after 
having  marked  down  a  bevy  to  a  yard  in  favorable  ground,  and 
having  faiUid  to  start  them,  I  have  left  the  place,  concluding 
ihat  they  had  taken  to  the  trees,  or  liscn  again  unseen  by  me, 
when  I  am  satisfied,  had  I  waited  half  an  hour  before  proceed- 
ing to  beat  for  them,  I  might  have  had  good  sport.  I  will  here 
observe,  that  although  Quail  do,  beyond  doubt,  occasionally 
take  the  tree,  in  certain  localities,  and  in  some  kinds  of  weather, 
still  so  far  as  my  experience  goes,  they  do  so  rarely  when  pur- 
sued, and  then  rather  in  consequence  of  some  particular  habit 
of  a  single  bevy,  than  of  any  natural  instinct  of  the  bird. 

Once  again — and  I  have  done  with  the  difficulties  of  finding — 
particular  bevies,  endowed  with  that  singular  craft,  whicli  ap- 
proaches so  very  nearly  to  reason,  that  it  hardly  can  be  distin- 
guished therefrom,  will  fly  when  Hushed,  invariably  for  many 
days  and  weeks  in  succession,  to  some  one  small  out-of-the-way 
nook,  or  clump  of  briars,  so  long  as  that  nook  is  undiscovered, 
thus  baffling  all  attempts  to  find  them. 

In  one  instance,  while  shooting  in  the  vale  of  Warwick,  with 
an  old  comrade,  when  returning  home  '  tii  in  the  evening,  and 
when  within  two  hundred  yards  of  his  ho.^  itable  tavern,  he  said 
he  thought  he  could  start  a  bevy  by  the  stream  side,  where  he 
had  observed  that  they  often  roosted. 

Accordingly  we  went  to  the  place,  and  had  not  gone  ten  yards 
into  the  bogs,  before  the  Settei"s,  of  which  we  had  three,  all 
came  to  their  jjoint  simultaneously,  and  a  large  bevy  of  sixteen 
or  eighteen  birds  jumped  up  before  them.  We  got  in  our  four 
barrels,  and  killed  four  birds  handsomely  ;  and  marked  the 
birds  over  the  comer  of  a  neighboring  wood,  lowering  their 
flight  so  rapidly,  that  we  had  no  doubt  of  finding  them  on  a 
buckwheat  stubble,  suiTounded  by  thick  sumach  bushes,  and 
briary  hedges,  which  lay  just  beyond  the  grove. 

We  hunted  till  it  was  quite  dark,  however,  without  moving 


1 

i' 

'  lllll 

•ill 

j  ■ 

1  u.'; 

■  1 

1 

1 
1 

'  '    ■ 

§\ 


Hi 


r; 


228 


KRANK    FORESTKU'S    FIELD   SPORTS. 


■■    t;i' 


tho  birds.  On  going  out  the  next  morning,  we  drew  the  bogs 
blank,  iiiid  it  liecunie  evident  that  tlicy  had  roosted  in  the  jdace, 
wherever  it  was,  to  wliich   they  iiud  flown,  on  being  disturbed. 

We  set  ofl"  tlierefbre,  again  in  that  direction,  lioping  to  find 
them  on  tlicir  feeding  ground,  but  spent  the  greater  part  of  tho 
morning  trying  for  them  in  vain. 

We  tlien  took  our  dogs  in  a  different  direction  ;  and  after  a 
day's  sport — whether  good,  bad,  or  indifferent,  I  do  not  now 
remember — again  found  our  bevy  in  the  same  bogs, — killed  u 
brace  of  tiiem  only,  in  consequeiice  of  their  rising  wild,  and  tho 
evening  having  grown  dark,  and  again  marked  them  over  tho 
same  wood  corner^the  birds  literally  flying  over  the  top  of 
the  very  same  crimson  majilo  which  they  had  crossed  the  jjre- 


vious  evening. 


It  was  too  late  to  look  farther  after  them  that  night,  and  I 
knew  that  they  would  not  be  in  the  bogs  on  the  following  morn- 
ing,— we  took,  therefore,  a  different  beat,  and  heard  no  more  of 
my  bevy. 

On  the  third  day,  however,  being  2>i'pii'd  by  the  escape  of 
these  birds,  I  determined  to  spare  no  pains  to  find  their  hiding- 
places.  We  proceeded  accordingly  to  the  bogs,  the  first  thing 
in  the  morning,  found  them  before  they  had  cjuitted  their  roost, 
and  drove  them  for  the  third  time  over  the  top  of  the  same  red 
maple. 

These  birds,  be  it  obsen^ed,  were  on  my  old  companion's 
own  farm,  every  inch  of  which  we  know  thoroughly,  and  on 
which  there  was  not  a  brake,  or  tufl  of  rushes,  likely  to  harbor 
a  single  bird,  much  less  a  bevy,  with  which  we  were  not  ac- 
quainted. 

We  spent  four  hours  beating  for  these  birds  again  in  vain, 
and  left  the  ground  in  disgust  and  despair. 

In  returning  home,  however,  that  night,  we  recrossed  the 
same  fields ;  and  expecting  nothing  less  than  to  find  game,  I 
was  walking  down  the  side  of  a  snake-fence,  along  which  grew 
a  few  old  apple-trees,  with  my  dogs  pretty  well  fagged  at  my 
heel,  and  my  gun  across  my  shoulder.     Sudienly  out  of  the 


UI'LANO    SHOOTING. 


229 


iiioutli  (»f  ill!  old  cullai',  over  which  a  cottage  had  stood  in  past 
days,  up  wiiirlod  a  bovy  of  Quail,  and  away  over  tiie  very  same 
treo-top,  Itul  now  in  the  opposite  direction. 

On  exaininini,'  tiie  colhir,  the  inside  of  which  was  fdle<l  witli 
briars  and  weeds,  we  found  (;on(  lusive  proof  in  tlie  minieroua 
droppings  of  the  i>irds,  tliat  tliey  had  l^en  in  the  constant  iml)it 
of  sitting  tiierein,  attracted  thitlier  prohiihly,  in  the  first  instance, 
by  tlie  apples  wliicli  hud  fullun  into  tlie  liollow  from  the  trees 
overhead. 

It  was  as  yet  but  early  in  the  afternoon,  and  wo  were  so  near 
home  that  wo  got  fresh  dogs,  and  went  to  work  at  them  again 
in  tho  bogs,  where  wo  originally  found  them.  Some  time  had 
elapsed,  and  they  had  run  together  into  a  single  knot,  rose 
again  very  wild,  and  ilew  directly  back  to  the  old  hiding-place. 

Tliither  wo  followed  them  at  once,  flushed  them  therein, 
proving  most  unequivocally  that  they  had  always  lain  iKrdu  in 
the  same  small  spot,  and  drove  them  out  into  the  open. 

It  was  too  dark  by  this  time  to  pursue  them  any  longer ;  and 
afterward,  though  ue  found  them  constantly  in  dill'erent  parts 
of  tho  bog  meadow,  neither  as  a  body,  nor  as  single  birds,  did 
they  ever  betake  themselves  again  to  tlif  cellar  for  refuge. 

Had  I  not  accidentally  blundered  on  that  place,  when  think 
ing  of  anytliing  rather  than  of  the  birds,  I  might  have  hunted 
for  a  month  over  the  ground  without  finding  them.  From  the 
cavity,  and  the  narrowness  of  the  mouth,  a  dog  might  have  gone 
within  a  yard  of  it  without  scenting  them  ;  and  I  have  no  doubt 
that  mine  had  been  more  than  once  witiiin  tliat  distance  of 
them. 

And  hero  I  have  done  with  the  difficulty  of  finding,  which  by 
the  way  is  not  the  least  step  toward  killing  our  bird. 

It  is,  however,  little  less  difficult  to  kill  when  found,  than  to 
find  in  tho  first  instance.  When  first  flushed  the  bevy  rise  with 
such  a  whirring  and  tumultuous  noise  that  they  are  very  apt  to 
flutter  the  nei-ves  of  a  young  sportsman  ;  and  if  they  rise  very 
close  to  tho  shooter,  I  have  often  seen  even  tolerably  good  shots 
discharge  both  their  barrels  fi-uitlessly,  from  doing  so  much  too 
quickly. 


\  t  I 


t:  -I 


FRANK    FORESTEH'S    FIELD   Sl'OItTS. 

This  i»  not,  however,  liy  any  menns  tlio  diffirulty  to  wliicli  1 
allude,  IIS  an  old  and  HU-ady  shot  is  of  course  ])reHumed  to  he 
proof  iijfain.st  siuli  tremors;  and  in  the  ojien  field,  under  ordi- 
nary ciMunistaiiceH,  oui,'lit,  jj;enerally,  to  kill  his  douhle  shot 
out  of  every  hevy  that  is  pointed  und  flushed  within  fifteen  or 
twenty  paces. 

The  case  hecomes,  however,  altogetlier  different  after  the 
hirds  have  become  scattered  in  coppice,  or  yet  worse,  in  high 
saplings,  the  very  thickest  part  of  which  they  most  affect,  after 
)eiiig  once  disturbed. 

There  is  no  bird,  which  I  have  ever  seen  that  can  in  the 
slightest  degree  compare  with  the  Quail  for  the  rapidity  with 
which  it  takes  wing,  und  the  short  space  which  it  requires  to  got 
under  full  headway.  It  really  is  wonderful  to  observe  the  ox- 
traordinary  speed  and  commnnd  of  wing  with  which  this  bird 
will  dart  through  the  most  intricate  and  tangled  brake,  yet  I 
have  never  seen  a  single  instance  of  their  flying  foul  of  a  tree 
or  getting  entangled  in  a  thicket,  as  will  sometimes  happen  to 
uic  Riifled  Grouse,  und  mu<.li  more  frequently  to  the  Eurojjean 
Pheasant. 

The  Quail  flies,  as  I  have  said,  with  extreme  rapidity  in  a  di- 
rect line,  rather  ascending  for  the  most  part,  but  rarely  or 
never  dodging  and  jiitching  to  and  fro  like  a  Snipe  or  Wood- 
cock. It  has  a  habit  likewise  if  not  pointed,  of  lying  hard  until 
you  have  passed  it,  and  then  flirting  up  behind  your  back  ;  in 
which  case  your  first  intimation  of  its  whereabout  is  the  sharp 
whirr  of  its  wing,  and  you  must  bestir  yourself  hastily  indeed, 
yet  coolly  withal,  and  you  must  have  the  eye  of  instinct,  and 
the  nerve  of  steel,  to  cut  him  down  handsomely  under  such  cir- 
cumstances. 

It  may  be  added  to  this  catalogue  of  difficulties,  that  in  flying 
from,  you,  as  the  Quail  does  in  a  great  majoiity  of  cases,  he 
presents  to  the  aim  of  tlie  sportsman  a  vital  centre  little  larger 
than  a  cent  piece,  with  two  radii  formed  by  the  slender  pinions, 
in  which  small  target  four  or  five  shot  must  be  lodged  to  bring 
him   down   with    any  certainty;   so   that   it  will   not   appear 


Ul'LAND    SHOOTI.NO. 


931 


ri'iirirkiiMo  if,  with  a  gun  that  scatters  its  cimrpe,  oven  a 
iroMil  sliot  miss  this  liinl  even  at  u  siioi't  raiigu  ;  and  that  at 
tliiity  or  forty  paces  tiio  very  host  guns,  aimed  with  perfect 
procision,  fail  frociuuiitly  of  killiii'j  duan. 

The  Quail  is  a  very  l)ravo  bird,  inoro(»vcr.  Ho  will  carry 
off  a  great  quantity  of  siiot,  if  not  lodged  in  a  vital  part,  and 
will  fre(|uent'.y,  oven  when  mortally  wounded,  particularly  if 
shot  through  the  brain  or  heart,  and  going  before  the  wind,  fly 
till  life  leaves  him  in  mid  air,  and  oven  after  that  will  be  pro- 
pelled by  the  riipidity  of  his  previous  motion  and  the  buoyancy 
of  his  still  extended  wings,  for  many  yards  farther  in  a  descend- 
ing line. 

A  singular  instance  of  this  occurred  to  myself  while  shooting 
ill  the  Highlands  of  the  Hudson,  nearly  opposite  to  West 
Point,  with  two  friends,  in  November,  ISIIO.  Wo  were  beating 
a  bare  field  on  one  of  the  lower  hills  of  that  chain,  in  which 
were  several  shallow  ravines  lying  nearly  parallel  to  each  other, 
[lointing  transversely  downward. 

I  was  in  the  lowest  of  throe  gulleys  with  a  brace  of  dogs,  and 
perhaps  a  hundred  yai'ds  in  advance  of  my  companions,  each 
of  whom,  with  one  dog,  was  making  good  another  parallel 
gorge. 

The  wind  was  blowing  keeidy  and  coldly  on  our  backs,  and 
before  us  lay  a  long  range  of  open  fields  sloping  steeply  toward 
the  river,  with  a  piece  of  young  woodland,  bounded  by  a  stone 
wall  on  the  hither  side,  beyond  them. 

Finding  no  game  myself,  I  was  suddenly  put  on  the  alert  by 
the  quick  shout,  "  mark  !  mark  !"  from  behind,  somewhat  to  my 
left ;  and  in  the  next  moment  a  large  bevy  of  birds,  which  had 
been  raised  by  my  friends  and  circled  round  my  back,  passed 
me  within  twenty  paces  to  the  right. 

It  struck  me  at  the  time,  that  I  never  had  seen  birds  fly  so 
fast ;  they  had  already  traversed  sufficient  space  to  have  gained 
the  full  momentum  of  their  own  velocity,  and  had  in  their  favor 
all  the  impetus  that  the  swift  wind,  directly  before  which  they 
were  flying,  could  give  them.     I  was  shooting  with  a  gun  that 


■<i 


f 


II       S        !» 


it   i; 

il! 


'A 


S32 


FRANK   FORESTER  S    FIELD   SPORTS. 


cai'ries  its  sliot  very  closely,  atul  that  loadeil  witli  Ely's  patent 
cartridge,  whicli  arc  proj)elIed  full  oiie-tliird  farther  iind  more 
strongly  than  loose  shot — and  to  conclude,  I  was  perfectly  cool, 
and  making  allowance  for  the  distance  and  velocity  of  the  hirds, 
fired  both  barrels.  To  my  infinite  disgust  neither  bird  lell,  and 
I  need  not  add,  to  the  infinite  mirth  of  my  companions,  who 
accused  me  of  missing  two  perfectly  fiiir  shots  in  the  open. 

I  replied,  thereby  greatly  increasing  their  merriment,  that  1 
had  not  missud  either  bird,  and  that  I  had  hit  both  in  front  of 
the  wing,  that  is  to  say  in  the  most  vital  part  of  the  body  ;  at 
which  they  laughed  ineflably ;  but  in  '.he  end  it  turaed  out  as 
usual  that  the  last  laugher  has  the  best  of  it. 

For,  to  proceed,  we  marked  the  bulk  of  the  bevy  into  the 
woodland  I  have  mentio'.ied,  at  least  a  quarter  of  a  mile  down 
wind,  and  followed  them  thither. 

But  on  arriving  at  the  stone  wall  which  bounded  it  on  the 
nearer  side,  both  my  dogs  stood  almost  simultaneously,  and 
immediately  retrieved  the  two  birds  I  had  shot .  at,  perfectly 
dead,  but  both  warm,  and  both  bleeding  from  the  hill. 

The  shots  I  fired  were  the  first  shots  fired  that  morning,  con- 
sequently they  mus'-  have  been  my  birds,  and  they  had  flown 
afV*""  -iUg  mortally  struck,  above  a  quarter  of  a  mile,  and 
would  probably  have  flown  considerably  farther,  skimming 
close  to  the  ground,  had  not  the  stone  wall,  against  which,  I 
have  no  doubt,  they  struck,  brought  them  uj)  at  last.  From 
cmnosity  I  kept  the  two  birds  apart,  and  on  picking  them  found 
in  one  five,  in  the  other  seven,  No.  8  shot  in  the  neck  and 
breast  in  front  of  tlie  wing. 

The  comparative  size  of  No.  8  shot  to  a  Quail,  is  about  that 
of  grape  shot  to  a  man,  and  to  judge  of  the  tenacity  of  life  and 
muscular  motion,  we  must  imagine  a  man  running  half  a  mile 
at  the  top  of  his  pace  with  seven  grape  shot,  as  big  as  a  mode- 
rate sized  plum,  through  his  neck  and  the  cavity  of  the  sternum 
— a  thing  palpably  impossible  ! 

We  will  now  proceed  to  the  consideration  of  the  means  of 
overcoming  these  difliculties,  and  the  best  method  of  canying 


UPLAND    SHOOTING. 


233 


on  the  pleasant  and  exciting  pursuit  of  this  beautiful  littlo  bird. 

From  the  greater  difficulty  of  finding  and  killing  Quail,  it 
follows  of  course  that  a  greater  combination  of  qualities  in  the 
dog  with  which  we  hunt  them  is  rccjuireil. 

For  Snipe  or  Woodcock  shooting,  the  latter  esjiecially, 
which  is  pursued  in  very  close  covert  for  the  most  part,  we 
require  only  a  dog  with  good  hunting  (jualities,  under  excellent 
command,  broke  to  hunt  extremely  close  to  his  master,  and 
never  to  go  beyond  the  range  of  his  sight.  Indeed  if  he  do  not 
hang  ui)on  the  stale  scents,  and  potter  where  birds  have  been 
but  are  not,  a  dojr  for  Woodcock  shootinar  can  hardiv  be  too 
slow  or  too  steady. 

Now  all  these  qualities  are  essential  likewise  to  the  Quail 
dog,  and  without  these  qualities  the  sportsman  can  have  no 
success  when  he  has  attained  the  first  object  of  his  morning's 
work,  the  driving  and  scattering  his  birds  from  open  grain  or 
grass  fields  into  covert  wherein  they  will  lie  hard,  and  rise 
singly,  which  constitute  the  only  circumstances  under  which, 
north  of  the  Delaware  and  Potomac,  it  is  possible  to  bag  many 
Quail. 

Yet  this  is  far  from  all  that  we  require  in  a  Quail  dog ;  for 
as  we  are  compelled  to  seek  for  our  birds  in  the  open  feeding 
grounds,  while  they  are  running  in  the  early  morning,  and  as 
our  day's  sport  mainly  depends  on  finding  a  considerable  num- 
ber of  birds-  during  that  short  time,  which  ends  at  the  latest,  by 
ten  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  earlier  in  warm,  sunny  days,  it 
follows  that  the  more  ground  we  can  get  over  in  a  given  time, 
the  greater  the  chance  of  success. 

We  recjuire  therefore  that  our  brace  of  dogs  while  beating 
open  ground  should  have  dash  and  speed  enough  to  run  almost 
like  foxhounds  on  a  breast-high  scent,  heads  up  and  sterna 
down,  quartering  the  field  from  fence  to  fence  in  opposite  direc- 
tions and  crossing  each  other  midway — that  they  should  be  so 
staunch  and  steady  as  to  allow  the  shooter  to  come  up  to  them 
from  five  or  six  hundred  yards'  distance,  without  breaking  their 
poirt — and  lastly  that  they  should  be  under  command  so  perfect 


I  f 


I 


234 


FRANK   FORESTER  S   FIELD   SPORTS. 


that  on  getting  int.)  covert  they  shall  cross  anil  re-cross  tlieir 
grouiid  fifty  times,  never  budging  twenty  yards  from  the  feet  of 
their  master,  and  working  as  slowly  as  the  slowest  Cock-dog. 
It  will  he  seen  at  once  that  such  a  combination  of  ojiposite 
qualities  must  needs  be  very  rare  ;  and  so  rare  is  it,  that  for 
every  hundred  of  good  Woodcock-dogs  which  I  have  seen 
in  this  country,  I  have  not  seen  ten  equally  good  on  Quail. 

I  shall  not  touch  here  on  the  comparative  and  much  disputed 
excellence  of  the  Pointer  or  the  Setter,  except  to  observe  that 
personally  I  greatly  prefer  the  latter ;  while  I  admit  that  for 
persons  who  shoot  but  rarely,  and  who  do  not  like  the  trouble 
of  constant  supervision  of  tlu'ir  liogs,  I  had  almost  said  constant 
dog-breaking,  the  Pointer  is  the  more  suitable  companion. 

I  have,  however,  seen,  indeed  have  owned  Setters,  which  in 
all  points  of  steadiness  might  have  competed  with  the  staunch- 
est  Pointers,  and  which  were  as  careful  and  under  as  good 
cr.nmand  on  the  first,  as  on  the  last,  day  of  the  season. 

I  will  now  suppose  that  the  sportsman  has  arrived  at  his 
shooting  ground,  and  taken  up  his  quartera  in  his  snug  country 
tavern  for  the  night,  previous  to  commencing  operations  in  the 
early  morning  over  a  brace  of  good  dogs.  Pointers  or  Setters, 
at  his  own  option. 

First  then,  let  him  see  his  dogs,  which  we  will  suppose  have 
i*un  some  part  of  their  journey  afoot,  well  suppered  on  mush, 
or  suppawn  of  Indian-meal,  or  oatmeal,  seasoned  with  a  little 
salt,  but  no  meat,  which  injures  the  nose  ;  and  well  bedded  on 
clean  wheaten  straw.  Next  let  him  sup  lightly,  limit  his  jjota- 
tions  to  the  second  glass,  and  eschew  a  second  pipe  or  cigar. 
Let  him  to-bed  early,  that  he  may  sleep  well  and  rise  refreshed 
and  with  steady  nen'es. 

These  are  small  matters  doubtless — but  it  is  the  observance 
of  small  matters  that  makes  great  men  in  any  line,  and  in  our 
case,  good  sportsmen. 

Lastly,  let  him  assure  himself  before  retiring  to  rest,  that  his 
sheets  are  dry  and  well  aired,  no  inconsiderable  matter  to  him 
who  would  avoid  rheumatism.    If  he  be  the  least  in  doubt,  and 


UPLAND   SHOOTING. 


23A 


be  wise,  he  will  discard  the  suspected  linen,  and  turn  in  be- 
tween the  blankets. 

On  getting  up  in  the  morning,  all  ablutions  duly  performed, 
it  will  be  necessary  to  provide  for  the  needful  operation  of 
breaking  fast ;  and  this  must  neither  be  neglected,  for  no  man 
can  take  exercise  with  impunity  on  an  empty  stomach  ;  nor 
must  it  be  done  too  luxuriously,  for  as  certainly  no  man  can 
walk  well,  or  fast,  or  keep  it  up  long,  on  an  overloaded  one. 

Here  is  my  method. 

I  have  found  it  impossible  to  get  out  early  enough  to  do  exe- 
cution from  any  country  tavern,  if  one  waits  until  a  hot  break- 
fast is  prepared.  My  method,  therefore,  is  to  take  with  me  a 
cold  ham,  or  a  cold  hunters'  round,  and  to  have  the  table  laid 
over  night,  in  addition  to  that,  with  bread,  butter,  and  cold 
milk,  on  which,  for  my  part,  I  can  breakfast  very  satisfactorily. 

This  done,  if  you  know  the  country,  go  to  the  place  where 
are  the  most  and  likeliest  grain  stubbles  lying  near  to  good 
woodland,  or  coppice  covert,  and  l)eat  them  regularly,  in  such 
a  manner  that  the  woods  shall  be  down-wind  of  your  beat.  Let 
your  dogs,  however,  beat  every  field  up-wind,  by  which  means 
they  will  scent  their  birds  one-third  farther  than  if  you  go  down- 
wind. 

Look  especially  to  the  sides  of  the  fields,  particularly  if  they 
are  bushy  ;  Quail  do  not  affect  the  middle  even  of  the  stubbles 
on  which  they  feed. 

If  your  dogs  trail  a  running  bevy,  never  nin  or  hurry  them. 
They  are,  if  you  do  so,  nearly  sure  to  flush  them  wild.  Be,  on 
the  ccmtrary,  very  steady  yourself,  and  cry  "  Steady  !  steady  ! 
Toho  !"  words  to  which  dogs  should  be  accustomed  early.  If 
they  point  firmly,  and  are  so  very  staunch  that  you  can  depend 
on  them,  it  is  not  a  bad  plan  to  make  a  wide  circuit,  and  get 
a-head  of  the  bevy,  which  even  if  wild  and  running,  will  often 
squat  on  finding  itself  enclosed  between  the  dog  and  the  gun, 
and  thus  afford  good  shooting. 

If  you  drive  a  bevy  of  Quail  into  good  covert,  be  not  in  haste 
to  follow  it.     It  will  stay  there,  be  sure ;  and  you  will  find  them 


: 


m4 


'-rf^ 


236 


FRANK    forester's   FIELD    SPORTS. 


>  i 


far  more  rertaiiily  iifter  half  an  hour  has  clajised.  For  myself, 
I  have  found  it  tlie  best  plan,  where  woods  are  small,  and  the 
covert  thick,  to  go  on  beating  the  open  fields,  without  I'ollowing 
the  bevies  at  all,  in  the  first  instance,  marking  them  down  care- 
fully wlicn  they  rise,  until  the  feeding  and  running  hour  has 
passed, — then  to  follow  bevy  after  bevy,  whither  you  have  seen 
them  alight ;  and  knowing  their  whereabout,  if  not  the  exact 
spot  where  they  lie,  the  dogs  will  soon  find  them. 

Otherwise,  if  one  wastes  the  morning  in  killing  off  one  bevy, 
by  the  time  he  has  done  with  it,  the  birds  will  have  crept  aAvay 
into  their  hiding-places,  and  he  may  hunt  the  wood-skirts,  and 
brush-holes,  all  day  along,  without  finding  another,  even  where 
they  abound,  unless  he  blunder  upon  one  by  chance. 

During  the  heat  of  the  day,  if  one  have  not  I'ound  birds  in 
the  morning,  although  it  is  pretty  much  chance  work,  bog  mea- 
dows, brown  bushes  on  southei'ly  and  westerly  hill-sides,  old 
pastures  with  much  bent  and  ragwort,  and  the  skirts  of  cop- 
pices, are  generally  the  best  ground,  though  in  some  regions 
they  will  be  found  in  large  open  woodlands. 

In  the  afternoon,  soon  after  four  o'clock,  the  bevies  again 
begin  to  nin  and  feed,  and  in  this  part  of  the  day  they  will  fre- 
quently be  met  running  along  the  grassy  margins  of  streams 
which  flow  through  pasture-fields,  whither  they  resort  to  drink, 
or  at  least  to  crop  the  wet  herbage. 

So  good  is  the  chance  of  sport  at  this  time,  that  I  would  urge 
it  strongly  on  the  sportsman  who  has  failed  of  finding  his  bevies 
on  the  feeding  ground  in  the  morning — if  he  know  that  there  is 
a  fair  show  of  birds  in  the  district — not  to  persist  in  wearing  out 
himself  and  his  dogs,  by  fruitless  toil  in  the  heat  of  noon,  but 
rather  to  await  the  cool  afternoon,  when  he  will  very  often  make 
up  for  lost  time,  and  make  a  heavy  bag  when  circumstances 
have  looked  least  auspiciously. 

I  have  now  set  my  sportsman  faii-ly  in  the  field,  and  shown 
him  how  best  he  may  find  his  birds, — more  is  beyond  my 
means. 

A  crack  shot  must  in  some  sort  be  bom ;  but  most  persons, 


- 


UPLAND    SHOOTING. 


837 


witli  good  cycsi<rlif,  nnd  steady  nei-ves,  may  alfain  to  resjiecta- 
l)ility,  if  not  excfllonco,  in  this  irontlcmanlikc  and  manly  art. 

To  tliis  end,  practlco  and  coolness  arc  tlio  great  desiderata. 
Rules,  I  tliink,  avail  little,  if  anytliing.  T  have  seen  men  shoot 
excellently,  who  dosed  one  eye  to  take  aim — excellently  who 
shot  with  both  open, — never,  however,  I  must  admit,  decently, 
who  shut,  both — not,  by  the  way,  a  very  uncommnn  occurrence 
with  beginners.  I  have  seen  men  again  shoot  excellently,  car- 
rying their  guns  at  full  cock, — excellently,  who  never  cocked 
either  barrel  fill  in  the  act  of  firing. 

There  is,  however,  one  thing  to  be  observed, — no  man  can 
ehoot  well  in  covert,  or  at  snap  shots,  who  follows  his  bird  with 
his  gun,  or  dwells  on  his  aim — the  first  sight  is  always  the  best; 
and  it  is  delihcratc 2>romptitudc  in  catching  this  first  sight  which 
alone  constitutes — what  my  poor  friend,  .1.  Cypress,  Junior, 
used  to  call  the  rarest  work  of  nature — a  truly  cool,  truly  quick, 
crack  shot. 

With  regard  to  hunting  dogs  on  Quail,  there  is  a  great  deal 
to  be  said  ;  and  in  nothing  is  the  tnie  and  thoroughbred  sports- 
man more  distinctly  marked  from  the  cockney  pot-hunter,  than 
by  his  skill,  temper,  and  success,  in  managing  bis  four-footed 
companions. 

Quail  shooting,  as  the  most  difficult  of  all  shooting,  and  re- 
quiring the  greatest  natural  qualifications,  and  most  perfect 
training  in  the  dog,  demands  also  the  greatest  science  in  the 
person  who  hunts  the  dog. 

The  great  desiderata  here  are,  first,  to  know  precisely  what 
a  dog  ought  to  do, — and,  second,  to  make  him  do  it. 

In  this  country,  far  more  sportsmen  fail  in  the  first — in  Eng- 
land more  in  the  second  particular. 

It  were  scarce  too  much  to  say,  that  four  sportsmen,  in  their 
own  opinion,  here,  out  of  five,  know  so  little  what  are  the  re- 
quisite performances  and  capabilities  of  a  dog,  that  within 
twelve  months  after  buying  a  perfectly  well-broke  dog,  they 
permit  him  to  lose  all  he  has  ever  known,  merely  from  failing  to 
exercise  his  abilities,  and  punish  his  eccentricities. 


•."  ■  I. 


238 


FRANK    FOHESTKR's   FIELD    SPOUTS. 


As  in  all  other  tuition,  reward  and  punishment  must  both  l)e 
brought  into  play ;  hut  it  is  a  great  thing  to  rememher  that, 
while  a  dog  should  ncrcr  bo  allowed  to  disobey  an  order,  or  to 
commit  a  fault  unpunished,  it  is  well  neither  to  harass  him  by 
unnecessary  commands,  nor  to  tempt  into  faults  by  over  exac- 
tion. 

Moreover,  a  dog  cannot  be  managed  with  too  little  shouting. 
He  should  be  accustomed  always  to  obey  the  whistle  ;  and  he 
will  very  soon  learn  to  understand  the  meaning  invariably 
attached  to  any  combinations  of  that  sound,  turning  his  head  to 
observe  the  gesture  of  your  hand,  by  which  he  may  be  directed 
to  beat  this  way  or  that,  to  back  his  fellow's  point,  or  to  dow.- 
charge — the  signal  for  the  two  latter  duties  being  the  same, — 
the  hand  held  aloft,  with  an  erect  arm,  open,  with  the  palm 
facing  the  dog,  the  fingers  closed,  but  the  thumb  extended. 
This  motion  ought  to  arrest  a  dog  at  the  top  of  his  speed,  the 
instant  his  attention  is  called  to  it,  as  suddenly  as  if  he  were 
shot  dead ;  and  tlie  advantages  gained  from  the  strictest  enforce- 
ment of  the  rule,  are  too  palpable  to  demand  further  comment. 

If,  therefore,  a  Setter,  or  Pointer,  is  broke  to  lie  down  im- 
mediately to  charge,  on  the  firing  of  a  shot,  and  to  turn  his  bend 
at  every  whistled  call  of  his  master,  thereafter  obeying  one  or 
two  simple  gestures,  the  necessity  for  roaring  like  a  bull  of 
Bashan,  as  is  the  practice  of  most  dog-breakers,  and  all  cockney 
sportsmen,  will  be  entirely  obviated.  The  advantages  of  which 
will  be,  that  you  will  not  flush  four-fifths  of  all  the  game  within 
hearing,  nor  drive  your  fellow  sportsmen  crazy,  if  they  happen 
to  be  blessed  with  nerves ;  and  not  render  yourself  as  hoarse  as 
a  waterman  on  a  hackney-coach  stand,  by  bellowing  out  orders, 
which  your  dog,  nine  times  out  of  ten,  cannot  hear,  being  to 
windward  of  you. 

A  shrill  ivory  whistle  should  always  be  hung  from  the  button- 
hole of  the  jacket,  and  a  heavy  dog-whip  invariably  earned  in 
the  pocket ;  but,  although  neither  of  these,  in  their  way  highly 
useful  implements,  should  be  suffered  to  enjoy  a  sinecure,  it  is 
almost  unnecessary  to  observe  that  of  the  last,  even  more  than 


Dl'LANU    SHOOTING. 


230 


of  the  first,   the  real  utility  will  be  greatly  diminiuhed  by  too 
frequent  applicntion, 

I  shall  have  farther  occasion  to  speak  of  the  management  of 
dogs,  and  indeed  of  the  habits  and  mode  of  shooting  Quail  like- 
wise, under  the  head  of  "  General  Autumn  Shooting,"  which 
will  follow  the  few  remarks  I  shall  proceed  to  make  on  Pin- 
nated and  Ruffed  Grouse  shooting,  as  practised  apait  from  the 
pursuit  of  other  game. 


VOL.  r. 


18 


I 


■■■■  !'t= 

; 

I 


nng  to 


.  u. 


button- 
Tied  in 
bigWy 
re,  it  is 
re  than 


240 


KKANK     FORESTEk's    FIELD    SPORTS. 


HUFFED    GROUSE    SHOOTING, 


lii 


VULOO, PAUTRIDOE       HIIOOTINO. 


T  was  my  misfortune  once — 
once  only,  gontlo  reaJer — in  my 
life,  to  bo  socluceil  into  umlertii- 
king  an  excursion  very  late  in 
the  season,  a  few  days  only  lie- 
fore  Christmas,  into  the  interior 
of  Connecticut,  for  the  especial 
purpose  of  shooting  the  Ruffed 
Grouse,  or  as  it  is  there  termed.  Partridge. 

I  went  on  the  representation  of  a  friend,  who  while  Cock- 
shooting  on  that  ground,  early  in  the  autumn,  before  the  leaves 
weri'  down,  had  moved  an  immense  number  of  these  birds, 
which  were  then  in  broods  with  the  old  hen.  Ho  assured  m(!, 
as  he  fully  expected  would  prove  the  case,  that  we  should  cer- 
tainly get  twenty  or  thirty  fair  shots  each,  daily ;  and  in 
consequence  I  looked  for  great  sport. 

The  result  was,  that,  although  we  had  two  brace  of  as  good 
Setters  as  any  in  the  country,  and  fagged  steadily  and  resolute- 
ly during  four  successive  days,  we  bagged  seven  birds  between 
us ;  two  only  over  points ;  and  certainly  did  not  fire  altogether, 
at  snap  shots  and  long  range,  above  ten  or  eleven  shots.  On 
other  occasions,  once  or  twice,  I  have  been  persuaded,  contrary 
to  my  opinion,  to  go  out  of  my  way  to  beat  for  Ruffed  Grouse, 
or  to  devote  a  day  to  their  especial  pursuit,  but  I  never  in  any 
one  case  have  been  successful. 


UPLAND   SHOOTING. 


841 


The  Ruffed  Grouse,  after  the  broods  liave  separated  and  left 
tlie  hens,  are  tlie  wililost  and  most  wary  birds  1  liavo  ever  pur- 
sued, when  the  woody  nature  of  the  haunts  which  they  affect 
is  taken  into  consideration.  They  have  also  the  most  ramblintj; 
habit  of  any  Amori(!aii  game-bird,  except  the  Turkey  ;  it  not 
l)eiiig  an  uncommon  thing  for  the  single  birds,  or  the  small 
companies  into  which  they  sometimes  form  themselves,  to 
wander  on  the  foot,  without  taking  wing  at  all,  ten  or  twelve 
miles,  at  a  stretch,  over  rough  hills  and  through  deep  wood- 
lands. Add  to  this,  that  their  favtjrite  resorts  are  the  steep 
ledgy  sdcs  of  rocky  hills,  covered  with  thick  wood,  and  that 
generally  of  evergreens,  as  pine,  hemlock,  or  red  cedai-,  with 
an  undergrowth  of  the  great  mountain  rhododendron,  com- 
monly known  as  laurel.  It  is  the  characteristic  of  this  sort 
of  woodland,  that,  while  the  foliage  is  very  thick  and  intricate 
above,  on  a  level  with  the  breast  and  eyes  of  the  sportsman,  it 
is  for  the  most  part  perfectly  open  and  clear  below ;  so  that 
while  the  hunter  has  the  greatest  difficulty  in  seeing  his  birds, 
the  birds  have  none  whatever  in  seeing  him  or  his  dogs.  They 
consecjuently  start  on  the  full  run — and  he  who  has  tried  to 
secure  one  when  wing-tipped  or  slightly  wounded,  without  the 
aid  of  dog,  knows  what  pace  that  is — the  moment  the  sports- 
man enters  the  wood;  and  after  keeping  the  dogs  trailing  and 
roading  on  their  scent  for  a  mile  or  two,  either  flap  up  unper- 
ceived  into  a  tree,  or  take  wiu'j:  at  a  hundred  yards'  distance ; 
and  in  either  case  get  away  unshot  at.  On  this  account,  they 
are  the  most  trying  bird  to  the  temi^er  of  a  dog  that  possibly 
can  be  imagined,  as  it  is  comparatively  speaking  of  very  rare 
occurrence  that  they  will  lie  to  be  pointed,  and  flushed  over 
the  point. 

The  exception  to  this  rule  is  where  they  are  found,  which  is 
rarely  the  case,  in  low,  swampy  thickets  of  heavy  covert,  in 
level  country.  In  such  places,  if  you  have  the  luck  to  find 
them,  you  are  almost  certain  of  great  sport ;  for,  where  the 
ground  is  thick  and  tangled  at  the  bottom,  they  will  squat, 


I  n 


m 


,     i    ''I 


542 


FRANK    FORESTKR's    FIELD   SPORTS. 


I!     !i 


I     I 


fiiuliriEf  tliemsolves  uiiiil)lc  to  run,  uiid  will  lie,  on  such  occa- 
ijionH,  till  tlicy  uie  literally  kicked  up. 

I  liiive  never,  in  nil  my  experience  of  shooting  in  this  coun- 
try, Heen  this  occur  l)iit  twice;  iinil  in  fact  the  l)irtl  is  so  seKloni 
found  in  lowland  country,  that  I  consider  it  utterly  useless  to 
go  out  in  pursuit  of  RuH'ed  Grouse,  excc2)t  as  an  adjunct  with 
other  birds  of  bolder  and  freer  winjr. 

One  of  the  instances  I  have  alluded  to  above,  is  perhaps  not 
unworthy  of  notice,  as  I  believe  it  to  be  almost  uni(pie  ;  lor  I 
have  mot  no  sportsman  who  has  secui  any  thintr  of  the  sort 
occur  with  the  Ruffed  Grouse,  though  with  the  Prairie  Hen  it 
often  happens.  It  occurred  during  early  autumn  shooting,  on 
the  second  or  third  of  November,  immediately  af^er  the  law  of 
New-Jersey  permits  this  bird  and  the  Quail  to  be  shot;  and 
Woodcock  had  not  as  yet  forsaken  the  country.  I  was  beating 
for  game  in  general,  but  rather  with  a  view  to  Cock  than  any 
other  bird,  in  a  long,  nar.ow  swale,  between  a  steep  ridge  and 
an  ojicn  meadow,  along  the  edge  of  which  my  comjianion  was 
walking,  while  I  myself  made  good  the  whole  width  of  the 
alder  coppice  with  my  dogs.  Suddenly  both  the  Setters  came 
to  a  dead  point  at  a  small  patch  of  thick  briai-s  and  brambles 
close  to  the  meadow  fence,  and,  on  my  walking  up  to  them, 
finding  that  nothing  moved,  I  took  it  for  granted  that  it  was  a 
Hare,  and  called  out  to  my  friend  to  look  out,  as  I  would  beat 
it  out  to  him.  On  kicking  the  briars,  however,  to  my  great 
surprise  a  very  fine  Ruffed  Grouse,  a  cock  bird,  rose  within 
ten  i'eet  of  me,  and  flew  directly  across  mo  toward  the  hill 
Unfortunately,  my  friend  fired  at  the  bird  across  me,  contrary 
to  all  rules  of  sport  manship,  so  that  two  charges  were  wasted 
on  this  bird  '  »r  immediately,  at  the  report,  three  more  birda 
rose  out  of  the  same  brake,  two  of  which  flew  across  him  over 
the  open  meadow,  both  of  which  he  must  have  killed  had  he 
reserved  his  fire,  as  he  should  have  done,  while  the  third  follow 
•id  the  coi'k  across  the  swale  to  the  ridge,  till  I  stojjped  him. 

Taking  it  for  granted  that  nil  the  birds  must  have  gone  now, 
four  barrels  having  been  fired  directly  over  the  thicket  in  which 


iPLAxn  snooTiNr;. 


213 


and 


they  hiy,  1  miide  sorae  oliscrviition  to  my  (•(impniiinn  ahout  liis 
rasliness  in  firing;  wlicn  tln-cc  nion*  birds  wliirrfd  out  of  tlio 
KJimc  biisli  in  (piick  siiccrssion,  nnd  of  course  pot  away  iinsliot 
at,  all  onr  barrels  lu-intj  i-nipfy.  Alter  I  bad  l(>ad(;d,  yet  an 
cii,ditli  bird  got  up  a  few  yards  ahead,  having  crept  out,  T 
imagine,  while  the  dogs  were  at  down  ciiarge,  nnd  I  was  foitu- 
nato  enough  to  kill  it  also — thus  bringing  four  Kuded  Gn»us«! 
to  bag,  which  were  Rpnuig  one  by  one,  or  very  nearly  so,  out 
of  a  t!;icket  less  than  thirty  feet  in  circnmf(Mence.  ^V'e  ouglit 
certainly  to  have  got  one  more  bird,  at  least ;  and  had  we  been 
as  silent  as  we  should,  might  possibly  have  biigged  them  all,  for 
they  all  rose  within  four  or  five  yards  of  our  gun-muz/les,  and 
the  place  was  quite  open  and  fair  shooting  ground. 

I  never  saw  a  more  evident  jiroof  of  the  great  propri(>fy,  and 
great  gain,  of  attending  striittly  to  the  most  minute  rules  of 
eportsmanship  and  woodcraft;  like  laws  of  military  tactics, 
they  can  never  be  violated  with  impunity  ;  and  though  we  ob- 
serve them  ninety-nine  times,  the  violation  on  the  hunlredth 
will  almost  certainly  prove  disastrous. 

I  know  an  instance  of  a  good  sportsman  in  the  city  of  New- 
York,  whose  name  I  do  not  record,  giving  him  the  credit  of  a 
remarkable  feat;  because,  being  in  business,  it  might  injure 
him  among  those  gentry  of  the  street,  who  think  n(»  hunting  but 
dollar-hunting  rcujiectahlc  !  who  actually  brought  to  bag  eight 
Pinnated  Grouse,  in  succession,  without  1  imself  moving  from 
his  ground,  or  his  dog  breaking  its  point.  This  occurred,  some 
years  since,  on  Martha's  Vineyard  ;  but,  as  I  have  obsei-ved 
before,  I  know  no  authentic  instance  of  the  RuflTed  Grouse  ever 
lying  in  the  same  manner,  after  the  separation  of  the  broods. 
Befoi'e  that  period,  they  of  course  lie  to  the  dog  as  the  Quail, 
the  Prairie  Hen,  or  the  Grouse  of  the  British  Isles.  Hence,  I 
consider  the  day  fixed  by  our  legislature  for  the  end  of  close 
time,  as  too  late  in  regard  to  the  Ruffed  Grouse. 

The  constantly  repeated  tale,  that  the  Ruffed  Grouse  when  it 
alights  in  trees  in  companies,  which  it  occasionally  will  do,  in 
the  spring,  when  eating  the  young  buds,  of  which  it  is  extremely 


I        '» 


I' 


! 


\  I- 


,!        1 


i-l 


!;i 


^14 


FIIAMC    FOHKSTnil  S    FIKLD   SPcinTS. 


fund,  will  iiUnw  tlic  wliolo  Hock  to  bo  hIioI  down,  imc  Iiy  itTin, 
williniit  stiniin,',  j»nivi»l(!<l  tlio  slioofrr  tiikew  the  jUTciiutioii  ot 
sluMitini,'  lliiil  wliich  sifs  llu;  lowest  on  lln'  tree,  first,  is  ns  liiiin- 
lous,  ns  it  is,  on  the  I'ticc,  ridiculous. 

Mr.  AuduI>on  not«'s  fliis  fact,  with  liis  wonted  uccunicy ; 
iidding  tluit  durintf  lioiivy  snow  stoiins  ho  hns  somcfinicH  killed 
tlii'co  or  four.  This  is  crcdildo  cnougli ;  stnrvjition  will  niuko 
any  l)ird  or  hcnst  tame,  and  snow  appears,  while  i'lillini'',  to 
liavo  a  peculiar  eflect  on  i)irds  (d'this  oriler — uidike  ruin,  which 
makes  them  wild — renderiiiuf  them  very  unwillii}';  to  rise. — 
Sdi'ttgr.s  in  this  region  of  country — 1  can  designate  them  hy  no 
oIImm"  name — olh'ii  shoot  whole  bevies  of  Quail  while  hiuhlled 
together  on  the  ground  in  their  little  circles,  during  snow 
Bto  ms,  in  this  maimer,  at  a  single  shot.  80  far,  however,  are 
such  foul  practices  from  deserving  to  he  recorded  us  modes  of 
killing  game,  that  I  oidy  speiik  of  them  here,  in  order  to  uphold 
them,  and  all  wlio  priu'tico  them,  to  the  contempt  and  alil.or- 
rcuce  of  every  one  who  would  he  termed  a  sportsman. 

I  have  hcen  told  that  these  birds  exist  in  sudi  i.bundance  on 
tht!  Kaatskills,  and  in  all  that  region  of  country,  that  it  is  well 
wortli  the  while  to  go  out  in  jmrsuit  of  them,  withf)ut  reference 
to,  or  rather  with  no  chance  of  finding  any  other  species  of 
game.  This  I,  at  least,  shall  never  attempt ;  nor  shall  I  ever 
advise  any  person  to.  do  so.  I  know  that  they  abounded  in 
that  district  of  Connecticut  of  which  I  have  spoken  above,  as 
was  proved  by  the  fact  that  many  scores  were  offered  to  me  for 
purchase,  which  had  been  snared,  yet  it  was  impossible  to  get 
shots  at  them  over  dogs. 

Again,  throughout  the  semi-cultivated  portions  of  all  the 
Eastern  States,  and  especially  in  Maine,  the  woods  are  literally 
full  of  them  ;  yet  such  are  their  peculiarities  of  habit,  that  it  is 
useless  to  attempt  to  have  sport  with  them.  A  man,  stealing 
along  the  old  gi'assy  wood  roads,  keeping  absolute  silence  and 
a  bright  look  out,  may  manage  to  pick  up  a  brace  or  two  in  the 
course  of  a  day,  and  this  is  probably  more  than  the  best  sports- 
man living  can  effect  with  the  best  dogs,  in  that  region  of  coun- 
try ;  but  that  is  not  sport  for  sportsmen  ! 


1  the 
erally 
it  it  is 
caling 
c  and 
in  tho 
ports- 
coun- 


pri,AND   SiroOTINO. 


Tho  RiifTtHl  (Jjuiiso  is  a  siii-jfulaily  h'lHilsomo  hinl,  whotlior 
oil  th('  ground  or  on  tlin  wing  ;  loiduii^:,  iVoiu  tho  loosonosH  and 
downy  lialiit  of  liis  luatiicrs,  consiili'niidy  largor  iIum;  lio  ruiiliy 
i.s.  Ill-  ri.Hcs  with  a  visiy  loud  wliiiiing  of  I  is  wings — wiiicii 
Mr.  Aiidiilton  assurls  so  positively,  tliat  [  must  siipposo  so  accu- 
rate an  ohsorvcr  to  ho  surely  correct,  to  l?o  uttered  merely  at 
moments  of  alarm  and  sudden  trepidation,  tho  hird  when  not 
lorced  to  take  wing,  rising  noiselessly — and  gets  under  w;iy 
with  (ixtromc!  rapidity.  In  genera!,  tliis  hird  does  not  rise  mucli 
higher  than  a  man's  head,  and  then  Hies  very  straight,  and  very 
swiftly,  at  an  even  elevation  for  several  iiundred  yards;  afttsr 
which  it  will  set  hotli  its  wings,  and  sail  dead  heforo  tho  wind 
with  immense  vcdocity.  To  kill  the  RiiTed  (Jrouse,  when  thus 
skating  down-wind,  as  it  crosses  you,  having  heen  Hushed  at  a 
distance  it  is  necessary  to  allow  a  considerahle  space  for  tho 
swiftness  of  its  motion  ;  and  I  should  lire  not  less  than  two  feet 
in  front  of  one,  at  thirty-five  or  forty  yards'  distance. 

Going  directly  away  from  tiie  gun,  tlie  Uulfcd  Grouse,  liko 
the  Quail,  is  an  awkward  hird  to  kill,  from  tho  fact,  that  they 
hoth  fly  with  tho  body  so  nearly  level,  that  tho  rump  and  hard 
bones  of  tho  back  receive  the  shot ;  and  in  this  part  of  tho  body 
they  will  have  to  be  struck  very  heavily,  before  they  will  fall. 
Tt  is  a  good  plan  in  this  position  to  shof)t  a  little  low,  as  you  are 
far  more  apt  to  over  than  to  under-slioot  them. 

A  cross  shot,  if  not  too  far  oft',  is  easily  killed  ;  as  the  bird 
alFords  a  fair  mark,  and  will  not  carry  oif  nearly  so  much  shot 
as  the  Quail,  if  struck  well  forward. 

Beginners  are  apt  to  shoot  behind  all  their  cross  shots,  and 
perhaps  especially  so  at  this  bird,  his  long  tail  and  loose  feathers 
tending  to  deceive  them. 

It  is  a  matter  of  exceeding  surprise  to  me,  that  this  bird  has 
not  been  naturalized  in  Gi'oat  Britain.  Its  extreme  hardihood 
would  render  its  success  certain  ;  and  in  every  part  of  the  coun- 
try, but  in  the  woodland  and  forest  counties  especially,  Dorset- 
shire, Devonshire,  parts  of  Essex,  the  New  Forest,  throughout 
Wales,  and  in  many  districts  of  the  North  Country,  and  Scot- 


'I  'I 


I 


I   III 


'» 


;  t 

!  I 


i  ; 


•1. 


<«»*!, 


■I    i; 


m  I 


'      i! 


246 


FRANK    FORKSTEK  S    FIELD    SPORTS. 


, 


land,  it  would  very  soon  l)ccomc  fibundnnt.  Tiidecd,  the  hedge- 
rows would  he  sufHciciit  to  hold  it,  everywhere  ;  and  from  what 
I  hiivc  seen,  and  slated  above,  ot"  its  hahits  in  the  low  grounds 
here,  I  do  not  do>ibt  that  it  would  there  afFoi'd  sport  equal  to  any 
English  l)ird,  ex(;ept  the  Red  Grouse.  Its  flesh  is  delicious,  if 
dressed  properly.  It  will  bear  to  be  kept  hanging,  in  the 
autumn,  two  or  three  weoks  with  manifest  advantage ;  it  slwuld 
bo  roasted  quickhj,  before  an  extremely  hot  fire  ;  and  it  should 
be  exposed  at  once  to  the  full  heat,  at  a  short  distance,  so  as  to 
sear  the  pores  of  the  skin,  and  prevent  the  exudation  of  the 
juices ;  after  a  few  minutes  it  may  be  withdrawn  from  the  focus 
of  heat,  until  ii,  shall  be  cooked  through.  It  should  be  eaten, 
as  should  tlie  Grouse  and  Quail,  with  bread  sauce  and  Jried 
crumbs, — any  soil  of  jelly,  or  sweet  condiment,  with  any  galli- 
naceous fowl,  or  any  meat  that  is  not  immoderately  fat  and  lus- 
cious, is  an  abomination.  As  a  variety,  either  this  bird,  or  the 
Quail,  is  delicious  lai'ded,  boiled,  and  smothered  in  celery 
sauce  ;  and  the  Quail,  en  passant  be  it  said,  is  undeniable  in  a 
pie,  with  a  fat  rump  steak  at  the  bottom  of  the  dish,  a  dozen 
hard-boiled  eggs,  and  the  slightest  possible  soupgoN  of  garlic, 
and  one  cayenne  pepper-pod. 

If  intended  to  be  eaten  cold,  both  birds  are  better  boiled  than 
roasted ;  as  they  will  be  found  on  trial  much  juicier,  and  less 
dry,  than  in  the  usual  mode. 

I'lie  plan  resorted  to  by  French  cooks,  who  never  know  how 
to  cook  any  sort  of  game,  except  in  salmis,  or  the  like,  of  blan- 
keting these  birds  in  pork  fat,  cut  thin,  before  roasting  them,  is, 
of  course,  entirely  wrong.  It  pi-events  the  gi'and  desideratum, 
namely,  the  searing  of  the  skin,  so  as  to  make  it  contain  the  na- 
tural juices ;  and,  instead  of  its  own  game  gravy,  saturates  it 
with  the  essential  oil  of  2>'g- 

The  epicure  will  p'-efer  the  back-bone  and  thighs  of  this  deli- 
cious bird;  and,  by  saving  them  for  himself,  he  will  also  gain 
the  credit  of  great  disinterestedness  from  the  ladies,  and  the 
mobs, — Heaven  forbid  that  I  should  intend  a  comparison,  in 
thus  uniting  them  !  but  it  is  a  fact  that  they  both  invariably 


UPLAND    SHOOTING. 


L>47 


prefer  the  bosom,  ns  T  believe  it  is  the  fashion  of  tlicsc  modest 
ilitys  to  term  the  white  meat. 

For  the  benefit  of  what  the  French  arc  pleased  to  call  amphi- 
tryons,  the  excellent  men  who  are  rich  enough  to  girc  good 
dinners,  and  of  the  happy  men  who  are  allowed  to  cat  them, 
I  will  add,  that  red  wine  is  the  thing  with  game  of  all  kinds. 
The  rlgjit  thing  of  all  is  Ckamhcrtin,  or  clos  de  Vougcot !  but, 
in  tlofault  of  these,  a  sound  Lajlttc  or  IdUtour  claret  is  excel- 
lently well  in  place.  Champagne  is  not  the  thing  in  the  least ; 
and,  for  those  who  aspire  to  feed  themselves  or  their  friends 
creditably,  without  aiming  at  the  expense  of  the  costly  French 
red  wines,  allow  me  to  suggest,  that  a  glass  of  good  gold  sherry 
is  perfectly  allowable  with  game.  Excejit  at  a  ball  supper,  no 
one,  except  counter-jumpers,  ever  think  of  champagne,  beyond 
oni^  tumbler  with  the  roti, 

Tlie  next  thing  to  killing  your  game  handsomely,  after  find- 
ing it  gnostically,  is  undoubtedly  knowing  how  to  set  it  on  the 
table,  for  the  benefit  of  your  friends,  in  perfection,  and  with  the 
proper  accessories;  and  a  hint  or  two  on  this  subject  may  be 
pardoned,  even  in  a  work  on  field  sports, — especially  where 
such  abominations  are  practiced,  as  eating  Snipe  and  Woodcock 
high,  drawing  the  trail,  and  broiling  them ;  and  eating  currant, 
or  plum  jelly,  with  roast  Grouse  ;  or  cranberries  with  venison. 

Nothing  in  my  eyes  is  more  contemptible,  than  the  man  who 
cannot  rough  it  upon  occasion, — who  cannot  dine  heartily,  and 
with  a  relish,  on  a  bit  of  cold  salt  pork,  and  a  crust  of  bread, 
when  he  can  get  nothing  better;  but  nothing  is  more  stupidly, 
or  hopelessly  savage,  than  the  man  who  does  not  care  what  he 
eats. 

In  the  code  of  game-cookery,  the  giidiron  is  an  article  of  the 
kitchen  prohihitcd,  unless  in  the  case  of  a  venison  steak,  a  Bear 
chop,  or  a  Wild  Duck.  To  broil  a  Quail,  or  a  Grouse,  much 
more  a  Snipe,  or  a  Woodcock,  ought  to  be  made — Vikefrijing  a 
beefsteak — death  without  benefit  of  clergy. 


!i 


'  i-f  J 


L'lS 


FRANK     forester's    FIELD    SPORTS. 


GROUSE    SHOOTING 


HIS  noble  sport  I  have  never  myseli 
Lad  an  opportunity  of  enjoying,  though 
I  still  live  in  the  hope  of  finding  myself 
'on some  fine  autumnal  morning,  in  the 
Western  Prairies,  with  two  or  three 
brace  of  good  dogs,  a  staunch  compan- 
ion, and  all  appurtenances  suitable  for 
a  month's  sport. 
They  are  in  all  respects  the  noblest 
bird,  which  is  to  be  shot  over  Pointers  in  the  United  States  ;  and 
the  vast  numbers  in  which  they  are  still  found  in  their  own  Prai- 
rie-land, the  magnificent  range  of  country  which  is  spread  out  be- 
fore the  eye  of  the  sportsman,  the  openness  of  the  shooting,  and 
the  opportunity  of  observing  all  the  motions  of  the  dogs,  must 
render  this  sport,  like  the  Red  Grouse  shooting  in  Great  Britain, 
the  Queen  of  American  field  sports. 

Jn  the  state  of  New  Jersey  a  few  packs  of  these  fine  birds  still 
breed  annually  among  the  sandy  pine  barrens  along  the  southern 
shore  ;  the  best  of  these  shooting  grounds  are  now  exclusively  oc- 
cupied by  three  or  four  gentlemen  resident  in  the  vicinity  of  Bur- 
lington, Bordentown,  and  Trenton,  who  either  rent  or  have  pur- 
chased them  for  the  purpose  of  sporting  thereon,  and  on  the  pre- 
tence of  wishing  to  preserve  them.  I  say  the  pretence,  for  I 
grieve  to  say  that  no  feeling  of  chivalrous  sportsmanship  deter 
these  gentlemen,  some  of  whom  are  excellent  shots,  from  butch- 
ering these  noble  birds  even  in  the  month  of  July,  when  thfy 
are  utterly  unfit  for  killing ;  and  for  this  outrage  on  sportsman- 
ship and  humanity,  there  is  the  less  palliation — excuse  or  justifi- 
cation, there  never  can  be  any — in  that  occupying  the  grounds  ex- 
clusively, they  are  safe  from  the  apprehension  of  being  anticipa- 
t  'd  by  poachers  or  pot-hunters.     Why,  then,  they  should  them- 


p 


. 


1 


rds  still 
outhern 
vcly  oc- 
of  Bur- 
ive  pur- 
the  pre- 
for  I 
p  deter 
butcli- 
cn  tlicy 
vtstnavi- 
justifi- 
nds  ex- 
nticipa- 
them- 


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UPLAND    SHOOTING. 


249 


selves  poach  and  pot-hunt,  is  absolutely  inL'xplicaLlo  and  incon- 
ceivable. 1  trust  that  this  notice,  from  which  I  have  purposely 
withhold  the  names  of  the  offenders,  in  order  to  avoi  I  personali- 
ty, will  deter  them  from  the  like  criminality  in  future  against  the 
letter  and  spirit  of  the  laws,  which  should  rule  all  true  sportsmen. 

In  Martha's  \'inoyard  tiiey  are  so  strictly  preserved,  that 
7  have  never  taken  the  trouble  of  travelling  thither  on  the  chance 
of  obtaining  permission  to  slinot  at  tleni,  although  I  am  well 
aware  that  there  are  sportsmen  from  New  York  who  resort 
lliither  yearly  in  pursuit  of  them. 

On  the  barrens  of  Kentucky,  where  they  formerly  aboiiiulod, 
as  in  the  Eastern  States,  they  have  become  e.\tiiRt ;  and,  in  trulb, 
unless  the  sjiortsman  is  prepared  to  travel  so  far  as  Chicago,  St. 
Joseph's,  or  St.  Louis,  he  has  not  much  chance  of  obtaining  any- 
thing to  rewai'd  his  pains,  in  the  way  of  Grouse  shooting;  rnd 
it  is,  perhaps,  worth  observing,  thut  in  the  present  advanced 
state  of  internal  communication  with  the  Western  Country, 
there  is  no  I'eal  difficulty,  and  no  great  expense,  in  the  way  ol' 
the  adventurer  who  would  try  his  fortune  on  the  Heath-Hen  in 
its  own  wild  haunts.  The  facilities  of  steamboat  travel  are  par- 
ticularly favorable  to  the  transportation  of  dogs ;  and  it  would, 
doubtless,  well  repay  a  party  to  set  oH'  at  any  time  after  the 
first  of  September,  with  a  strong  kennel,  for  thn  prairies. 

This  Grouse  breeds  early,  the  nest  being  generally  finished 
on  the  firet  of  May ;  the  eggs  are  rarely  more  than  twelve  in 
number,  the  hen  sits  eighteen  or  nineteen  days,  and  the  young 
run  so  soon  as  they  are  hatched.  Tliis  species  never  raises  a 
second  brood,  unless  the  first  is  destroyed.  About  the  first  of 
August  the  young  are  about  equal  in  size  to  the  Quail,  and  are, 
I  regret  to  say,  at  that  age,  and  a  little  older,  butchered,  and 
pronounced  e.xcellent  eating  by  men  who  take  the  name  of 
sportsmen. 

A  writer  in  the  "  Turf  Register,"  under  the  title  of  "Tom 
Trigor,"  a  fellow  of  infinite  humor,  and  of  so  very  con'ect 
opinions  on  a  great  variety  of  topics,  that  I  mai"vel  at  his  prac- 
tice in  regard  to  Grouse,  discourses  thus  on  the  habits  .and 
modes  of  shooting  this  bird,  as  he  understands  them  : — 


HfTlM 


M-> 

11    . 

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n 

i 

i'm 


m 


250 


FRANK   forester's    FIELD   SPORTS. 


i      I 


'). 


■  1 


!    i 


!i: 


:     ! 


»■♦ 


''  Well  then,"  says  ho,  "  these  iioMo  liirds  early  in  Soptcm- 
her,  or  even  so  soon  iis  late  in  August,  who  have  whoojjcd,  nntl 
sti-utted,  and  trumpeted  the  live-long  spring  and  suninior,  the 
undisturbed  possessors  of  the  prairies,  are  now  leading  about 
theirbroods,  some  three-quarter  parts  grown,  and  they  are  at  no 
time  in  better  condition  for  broiling,  the  most  delicate  spring 
chickens  yielding  to  them  in  flav(ir  ;  and,  at  the'same  time,  their 
behavior  in  the  field  is  far  more  satisfactory,  and  accommodat- 
ing, than  at  any  other  period  of  their  lives.  They  iioav,  wliesi 
once  they  have  scattered,  stick  to  their  concealment  in  the  long 
grass,  till  you  kick  them  up  with  your  foot,  and  the  amount  you 
can  then  bag,  need  be  limited  only  by  your  forbearance  or  your 
industry." 

In  my  humble  opinion,  "  Tom  Trigor's"  gastronomy  and  hia 
sportsmanship  are  about  on  a  par,  lioth  execrable.  The  man 
who  would  broil  a  Grouse  at  all,  when  he  could  possibly  cook 
it  otherwise,  or  who  could  compare  it  by  way  of  praise  with  a 
spring  chicken,  must  have  about  as  much  idea  of  the  qualities  of 
game  on  the  table,  as  he  who  thinks  they  are  in  perfection  for 
shooting,  when  they  are  too  weak  to  rise  on  the  wing.  I  should 
think  their  conduct  would  be  more  satisfactory  yet,  to  such  a 
guniur,  before  they  could  fly  at  all. 

Seriously  speaking,  from  all  the  really  good  sportsmen  with 
v/hom  I  have  spoken  of  Grouse  shooting,  I  learn  that  the  defect 
in  the  sport  consists  in  the  extraordinary  tameness  of  the  bird, 
and  the  infinite  facility  of  knocking  it  down  at  the  commence- 
ment of  the  season, — the  killing,  in  fact,  partaking  almost  the 
character  of  butchery. 

To  quote  once  more  from  the  writer  above  cited : — "  Let  the 
gnostics  preach  about  its  being  not  'sportsmanlike,  and  unhand- 
some, to  knock  down  more  birds  than  you  can  consume.'  I'll 
make  out,  when  I  can,  my  twenty  brace  notwithstanding  ;  and 
I  have  never  seen  Grouse  yet  at  such  a  discount,  at  this  season 
of  the  year,  but  what  all  that  could  be  killed  could  be  consumed  ; 
and,  if  I  haply  should  a  little  overstock  the  market,  there  is  no 
feaj  of  thinning  ofl'  the  tribe,  for  their  name  is  legion,  and  the 


UPLAND   SIIOOTINf}. 


2.11 


the 


farmers  will  not  grlovo  wlieii  tlu-y  reflect  that  there  will  be,  at 
any  rate,  by  so  much  iho  fewer  (lej)re(lators  on  their  corn-fiekln 
next  mitumii  and  winter,  when  it  may  truly  bo  said,  they  are 
frillies  coimuinerc  nati.  Moreover,  we  must  make  llie  mist  of 
them  now,  for  in  six  weciks  tliey  will  chantre  their  charm'i'':'  'ind 
habits  so  entirely,  that  by  no  ingenuity  can  we  possibly  -.i  near 
onou'^h  for  a  shot;  ami  the  dtsvils,  thouifh  they  now  luml.lo 
over  on  the  reception  of  two  or  three  No.  8  shot,  will  then  carry 
off  as  much  lead  as  a  Galena  steamboiit.  It  is  astonishin'j:  how 
dilKcnlt  the  fnll-^rown  birds  are  to  kill, — I  have  known  them, 
when  riddled  with  No.  l  s'lof,  to  tly  entirely  out  of  siirht  and 
leave  yon  lnMidin<r  forward  your  neck,  in  hopes  that  as  you  have 
knocked  olf  feathers  enouirji,  as  it  would  seem,  to  fill  a  bolster, 
that  straiirht  and  rapid  ilitrlit  must  soon  f;;ller;  but  no,  on  goes 
the  bird  in  a  '  bee  line,'  till  his  figure  melts  into  thin  air,"  &c. 

It  is,  indeed,  sorry  work,  wIkjii  a  man  who  writes  so  very 
well,  and  who  seems  to  possess  very  many  of  the  genuine  ideas 
and  feelings  of  a  sportsman,  should  condescend  to  jiromulgate 
sucli  mis(;hievous  nonsense  as  the  above.  I  note  this  the  more 
willingly,  because  to  such  selfish  sophistry,  on  the  part  of  sports- 
men, more  than  half  the  difficulty  of  preserving  game  is  directly 
ascribablo. 

For  who,  if  the  sportsman  shoots  out  of  season,  because  it  is 
easier  to  kill  half-grown  birds  than  full-grown  ones,  or  because 
there  are  so  many  of  them,  that  two  or  threescore,  or  hundreds, 
more  or  less,  will  not  be  missed,  will  abstain  from  doing  like- 
wise 1  Or  how  shall  we,  conscious  of  such  a  beam  in  our  own 
eye,  venture  to  extract  the  mote  from  our  brotlu.'r's  ? 

The  arguments  advanced — if  arguments  they  can  be  called- 
in  the  above  precious  p;iper,  are  equally  applicable  to  every 
other  species  of  game  that  flies. 

The  Quail  is  a  very  hard  bird  to  stop  when  full-grown,  and 
well  on  the  wing,  especially  in  wild  weather,  and  thick  covert — 
an  infinitely  harder  bird,  in  proportion  to  its  size,  which  makes 
it  all  the  more  difficult  to  hit,  and  precludes  the  possibility  of 
using  largo  shot,  than  the  Grouse — but  T  am  happy  to  say,  tha 


i  .,» 


I  i  1 


I 


■!  li 


■  \\m 


I  • 


!  I  1 


i|. 


2/J:i 


FRANK    FORESTERS    FIKLD   SPOKTS. 


I  .1  i  : 


I  iU!Vor  in  my  life  hcitrd  a  sportsniiui  sulvocato  sliooting  Qiniil 
ill  .luly,  because  it  is  easier  to  kill  thorn  f/te/i,  than  in  Novi-nilusr. 

Again,  that  it  is  not  imj)OssiMe  to  kill  (J rouse — Prairie  Hen — 
in  the  autumn  and  winter,  is  rendered  sufFicicntly  evident  by  the 
quantity  of  these  birds,  killed  with  shot,  which  are  expostul  an- 
nually for  sale  in  the  New  York  and  Philadelpliia  markets,  ovft 
and  above  all  those  which  are  consumed  in  their  native  regions. 

Lastly,  the  reasoning  on  the  number  of  the  birds,  is  precisely 
tlia£  which  has  led  to  their  annihilation  in  the  Easteri.  ind  Mid- 
laud  States,  and  even  in  Kentucky,  and  which  is  equally  ^ipplicable 
to  every  species  of  game  in  every  district  where  it  is  ai)undant. 

I  have  heard  the  very  same  sort  of  talk  held  by  countrymen, 
in  defence  of  the  vile  practice  of  shooting  Woodcock  in  spring, 
where  there  were  then  thousands  of  those  birds.  The  conse- 
quence of  that  talk  is,  that  tliere  are  now  none  intliose  regions. 

The  truth  is,  that  until  the  uiiddliMifSuptenibor,  the  young  birds 
are  not  very  strong  on  the  wing, — aftc"  'hat  period  they  become 
gradually  wilder  and  stronger,  and  take  longer  llights,  some- 
times even  to  the  distance  of  two  or  three  miles  in  open  country. 

Tlieir  flight  is  less  rapid  than  that  of  the  RuHed  Grouse, 
though  of  the  same  character.  It  does  not  make  so  loud  a 
whirring  as  it  first  rises,  but  once  on  the  wing,  uses  the  same 
straight  even  course,  maintained  for  some  distance  by  frequent 
beats  of  the  wings,  after  which  it  will  float  fin  several  hundred 
yards  at  a  time  on  balanced  pinions,  with  the  velocity  gathered 
from  its  previous  course.  It  is  said  very  rarely  to  pass  over  the 
person  who  flushes  it,  even  by  the  most  sudden  surprise. 

It  feeds  on  stubbles  and  in  maize-fields,  and  is  to  be  hunted 
for  in  the  vicinity  of  such  grounds,  where  it  will  be  found  in  the 
greatest  abundance.  On  open  prairie-grounds,  the  highest  and 
speediest  rangers  are,  of  course,  the  best  dogs  over  which  to 
shoot  the  Grouse,  as  is  the  case  with  the  Scottish  red  game, 
provided  always  that  the  animal  has  gf)od  nose  enough  to  stand 
them  at  a  long  distance,  and  is  staunch  enough  to  allow  the 
sportsman  to  come  up  from  a  distance,  without  moving  on,  or 
flushing  his  birds. 


UPLAND    SIIUOTINU. 


263 


liunteil 
in  the 
3St  anil 
Hiicli  to 
game, 
|o  stand 
llow  the 
on,  or 


I  bIiouM  presume  tliat,  for  (Jrimsi;  sliootiiig  in  general,  tlio 
Pointer  would  lie  preferal)le  to  the  Setter,  as  this  l)iril  is  noto- 
rious for  its  dislike  to  \v;itery  or  marshy  ground, — and  it  is  the 
I'ointer'H  j)re>  minent  merit  tliat  lie  lan  endure  more  hours  of 
thirst,  than  any  other  of  the  dog  kind.  Tiie  Setter,  on  the  con- 
trary, very  s|)eedily  loses  his  power  of  scenting,  and  soon  after- 
wards his  whole  energy  and  strength,  in  hot  weather,  whero 
water  is  not  to  he  ohtained.  For  this  reason,  to  the  Eastward, 
in  Now  Jersey,  and  Pciuisylvania,  in  all  of  which,  hrush  pliiins, 
pines,  and  oak  barrens,  the  soil  is  e(pially  dry  and  sterile,  the 
I'ointer  is  as  much  preferred,  as  he  is  in  the  similarly  dry  Par- 
tridge shooting  of  England.  The  IJritish  moors,  on  which  the 
lied  and  Black  Gnmso  are  found,  abound  with  sjjrings,  well- 
heads, brooks,  and  morasses,  and  on  these  the  greater  speed, 
daring,  and  dash  of  tlu;  Setter,  as  well  as  the  advantiige  he  de- 
rives from  his  well-protected  hairy  feet,  gives  him  the  call 
decidedly  over  his  smooth-haired  rival. 

Mr.  Audubon  observes  on  this  point,  "  In  the  western  coun- 
try they  rarely  stand  before  the  Pointer;  and  I  think  the  Setter 
a  more  profitable  dog  there  ;"  but  I  nnist  confess  myself  entirely 
at  a  loss  to  comprehend  the  meaning  oi  this  passage. 

In  Eurojie,  it  is  very  true  that  the  Setter  naturally  crouches 
close  to  the  ground,  falling  flat  on  his  belly  when  he  comes  on 
the  scent  of  his  game  even  at  full  speed,  and  flattening  himself 
the  nearer  to  the  earth,  the  nearer  he  is  to  his  game,  while  the 
Pointer  invariably  stands  erect  to  jioint  his  game. 

If  this  distinction  held  good  in  this  country,  the  meaning  of 
the  above  passage  would  be  clear,  but  such  is  not  the  case. 
There  is  no  difference  whatsoever,  of  which  I  am  aware,  in  the 
style  of  Pointers  and  Setters  finding  and  pointing  their  game 
on  this  side  the  Atlantic.  I  have  always  shot  over  Setters,  pre- 
ferring them,  by  all  odds,  for  general  work,  and  have  owned  at 
least  a  dozen  good  ones  myself  since  I  liave  been  in  the  country, 
besides  shooting  over  scores  belonging  to  other  persons,  and 
I  never  in  a  single  instance  have  seen  a  Setter  set  a  bird  in 
America.     This  is  not  a  distinction  of  training  but  of  natura] 


' '  t'l 

i 


:H 


i'li" 


1  M  I 


im 


'.'iii 


i ; 


2/54 


FUANK    I'OKKSTKB  S    I  lELU    Sl'llllTS. 


i 


habit  in  tlio  liicfs  ;  mid  it  is  wnrtliy  ol"  n-rimrk  tliiit  tlit;  lit'Mt  i1i>j» 
I  cviT  owiii'd  luMo  wu.s  Olio  wliicli  I  imported  from  Eiinliiiid 
wliiMi  II  siiiiill  imp,  and  lind  biokt!  in  New  .TeiHoy.  I  lu-vt-r 
HMw  cillicr  liis  dam  or  liis  siio,  over  hotli  vvliicli  1  hIioI  in  Knjj- 
huu],  jioi/if  a  liini,  iind  I  n«!ver  Haw  liim  set  one.  Tin'  lirwt  liird 
lio  ever  Hcenti'd  waw  ii  Woodcock,  on  the  fourlli  of  July,  and 
flmt  he  xfootl,  witli  licud  and  Ntern  liigli  in  the  air,  as  yhowiiy  as 
I  ever  saw  a  Pointer  stand. 

Nothing  has  tjver  puz/.hfd  nio  more  completely  as  regards 
field  sports  than  tliis  fact,  and  I  cannot  iigiire  to  myself  any 
Hiason  that  is  at  all  satisfactory  for  the  difference  of  habit,  in 
the  two  countries.  I  have  sometimes  fancied  that  it  might  arise 
from  soil  or  cliiiiato  rendering  the  scent  colder  here  than  in 
]"]nglaiid — for  i-t  is  certain  that  the  hotter  the  sjent,  the  closer 
the  dog  .vcAv — but  I  cannot  see  that  this  holds  g  u)d  by  analogy, 
as  I  think  dogs  find  and  point  their  game  fully  as  far  off  hero 
as  in  Europe. 

This  obsenation  of  Mr.  Audubon's  has  brought  tlie  mutter, 
at  this  moment  strongly  to  my  mind,  and  has  almost  raised  a 
doubt  within  me,  whether  to  the  Westward  the  Setter  may  not 
possibly  resume  his  natural  inclination  to  set  rather  than  stand 
his  game. 

In  wooded  regions  it  is  to  be  remarked,  that  these  birds  are 
rarely  if  ever  to  be  found  among  open  groves  and  tall  timber, 
such  as  are  peculiarly  loved  by  the  Ruffed  Grouse;  they  fre- 
fjuent  tracts  of  low  bushes  and  stunted  underwood ;  and  when 
on  the  wing  will  fly  for  miles  rather  tlian  alight  until  they  can 
find  a  clear  ])lace,  such  us  an  old  road-way,  or  a  new  cutting,  in 
which  to  settle.  They  generally  run  forward  swiftly  as  soon  as 
they  strike  the  ground,  and  not  unfreiiuently  press  themselves 
into  thick  covert,  where  they  squat,  and  are  compelled  to  lie 
hard  by  the  difficulty  which  they  experience  in  taking  wing, 
from  the  opposition  of  the  dense  foliage. 

They  are  a  shy  bird  in  covert ;  and  are  of  course  much 
wilder  to  the  Eastward,  where  they  are  incessantly  persecuted, 
than  in  the  Western  Country. 


■1  ■ 


ids  are 
jtiniber, 
Icy  iVe- 
ll  wlieii 
Ley  can 
Ittiug,  in 
I  soon  as 
Imselves 
to  Ue 
|g  wing, 

be  much 
l-secutetl, 


trPt.AND    SHOOTIMi. 


y/i/i 


The  Gronsn  iiiviiirihly  miikcs  a  cluckiii'^f  noise  wIumi  it  takes 
wirv^  Ix'luie  a  flo'^,  mid  il"  it  rises  witliiii  distimco,  is  a  very  diisy 
shut.  Xi).  8  (Mirly  in  llio  season,  ami  later  Xo.  /),  arc  tlic!  Ix  st 
sizes  of  slifil.  Aller  that,  I  slionid  prefer  rcil  lily's  ciiitridijes, 
of  No.  5  Hlidt,  wliicli  T  will  lie  hound  to  say  will  fetch  them 
from  a  gond  twelve  or  fonileen  i^na^e  irnii  of  proper  wei'.jlit, 
liold  by  a  (piiik  hand,  and  levelled  by  a  true  oyo,  at  any  periotl 
of  the  season. 

Mr.  .Vndn  )on  observes,  contrary  to  the  remarks  cited  id)ovo 
from  W  Ison  and  Dr.  Mitchill,  thiit  the  (imnsi!  drinks  when  in 
a  stat(!  of  nature,  like  the  common  fowl,  and  farther,  that  it  is 
oxceediiiijly  Huscoptiblo  of  domestication,  even  breedint,'  freely 
in  captivity. 

The  remarks  with  roijard  to  licatinir  with  dops  for  the  Quail 
and  llnlfed  (rrouso,  and  for  sliootini^  both  tliose  birds  on  the 
will!?,  except  so  far  as  they  are  here  modified,  are  all  applica- 
ble to  the  Prairie  or  Heath-Hen. 

The  flesh  of  this  bird  ia  not  white,  like  that  of  the  FfufFed 
Gronso,  but  red,  like  that  of  the  Scottish  Moor  Fowl,  which  in 
many  respects  it  resembles.  It  has  more  of  th<*  bitrer  taste 
than  the  RtifTtvl  Gronso,  and  is,  in  my  opinion,  a  decidedly 
superior  bird.  It  will  bear  to  be  hung  for  some  days,  or  oven 
weeks  in  cold  weather,  and  is  to  be  cooked  and  eaten  accord- 
ing to  the    (irection     given  i.nder  the  last  head. 

In  conclusion,  it  is  well  to  state  here,  that  there  is  ccrtdinly 
no  distincfif  n  whatsoever  between  the  Heath-Hen  of  Long 
Island  and  Martha's  Vineyard,  the  Grouse  of  the  pines  and 
scrub  oaks  of  New  Jersey  and  Pennsylvania,  and  the  Prairie- 
Hen  of  the  West. 

They  are  all  one  and  the  same  1  iid — the  Pinnated  Gkouse, 
Tefmo  Ciipido,  of  the  ornitholonri^t,  and  emphatically  the 
Groitse  of  t!ie  sportsman. 

Of  the  Canada,  or  Spotted  Grouse,  it  is  in  vain  to  spi-ak,  foi 
ho  is  not  as  yet  to  bo  shot,  and  I  apprehend  never  will  be,  in 
sporting  style.     The  ground  in  which  to  find  him  is  the  deep 

larch  and  cedar  woods,  especially  the  former,  of  Maine,  Nova 
VOL.  I.  19 


il'l 


!i' 


:i 


I.  ,11 


206 


FRANK    FORESTKH  S    FIELD    SPORTS. 


Th 


i     4 


Scotia  and  New  Brunswick,  and  if  unywlioro  ho  exists  in  suffici- 
ent numbers  to  render  the  pursuit  of  him  cxcitinir  ;is  a  sport,  I 
have  no  doubt  that  the  dogs  over  which  to  shoot  him  would  be 
well  broke  Cocking  Spaniids. 

I  believe  that  the  flesh  of  this  species  is  the  most  highly  flavor- 
ed of  all  the  varieties  of  Grouse  which  we  possess,  though  I  but 
once  had  an  opportunity  of  tasting  it.  Jt  is  said  to  be  very  bitter, 
which  I  presume  to  be  that  spicy,  aromatic  game  flavor  which 
gives  the  zest  to  the  Grouse  above  all  other  birds,  in  the  eyes  of 
the  true  epicure. 

Thus  far,  with  some  few  exceptions,  I  had  written  in  my  first 
edition  of  this  work — these  exceptions  are  the  correction  of  two 
or  three  positive  and  palpable  errors  in  relation  to  the  growth, 
size,  and  seasons  of  this  admirable  bird.  I  am  still  myscdf  of 
opinion,  that  in  the  main  the  spirit  and  letter  of  what  is  above  set 
down  will  be  found  correct ;  but  having  had  the  good  fortune  to 
receive  a  very  interesting  original  communication  from  a  gentle- 
man of  distinction  and  zealous  sportsmanship  in  the  South-West,  I 
hasten,  with  sincere  acknowledgments  of  his  kindness,  to  insert 
his  letter  entire,  certain  that  it  will  be  n  ad  by  all  sportsmen 
with  plea.sure  and  profit,  and  that  its  statements  and  opinions  may 
be  received  with  perfect  reliance  on  their  correctness  and  fidelity. 

1  have  only  to  add  that  the  handsome  present  of  game,  to 
which  reference  is  made  below,  arrived  in  perfect  condition,  and 
were  dealt  with  in  perfect  accordance  with  the  desire  of  the 
obliging  donor.  I  cannot,  however,  coincide  with  his  views,  as  1 
still  think — though  I  admit  that  a  broiled  Grouse  is  good  enough 
— that  it  is  much  inferior  to  one  roasted  before  a  very  brisk  coal 
or  wood  fire — I  do  not  mean  baked  in  an  oven,  which  is  very 
often  called  roasting — and  served,  slightly  underdone,  with  bread 
sauce.     All  jelly  or  sweet  sauce  with  Grouse  are  an  abomination. 

I  have  not  yet  had  the  good  fortune  of  being  able  to  comply 
with  my  friend's  kind  invitation  to  participate  individually  in  the 
noble  sport  of  the  prairies,  though  I  earnestly  hope  to  do  so  ere 
many  autumns  have  elapsed  ;  nor  had  I  the  pleasure  to  see  his 


UPLAND  SHOOTING. 


257 


ICI- 

Lbe 


vor- 
but 

tter, 

cs  ot 


first 


,f  two 
i-ovvth, 
elf  of 
ove  set 
nnc  to 
(Tcntlc- 
\Vcst,  1 
)  insert 
jrtsmcn 
)ns  may 
fideUty. 
me,  to 
ion,  and 
of  the 
-ws,  as  1 
enough 
isle  coal 
\  is  very 
th  bread 
ination. 
comply 
liy  in  the 
lo  so  ere 
0  see  his 


ni 


friend,  Mr.  M.,  although  I  should  have  rojoicod  to  sec  and  con- 
fer witli  Iiliu  on  tlio  subject  of  the  sports  of  the  South-West,  of 
w'liieli  I  have  seen  too  little,  while  1  desire  so  greatly  personally 
to  participate  in  theiii.  I  may  also  add  that  I  have  learned  from 
good  .sportsmen  of  the  West,  that  the  objection  against  the  u.sc 
of  pointers,  lies  in  the  inability  of  their  thin-skinned  legs  and  bare- 
soled  feet  to  endure  the  wear  and  tear  of  the  prairie  grass. 

Si.  Louis.,  JFo.,  January  29</i,  1849. 

Sir  : — Not  only  are  an  author's  works  the  property  of  the  pub- 
lic, but  his  readers  become  in  some  degree  his  acquaintances. 
He  addresses  his  readers  familia)ly,  sometimes  almost  affection- 
ately, especially  when,  as  in  your  case,  the  subject  is  such  as  to 
establish  a  kind  of  free-masonry  between  him  and  all  true  lovers 
of  the  dog  and  gun. 

Having  read  botii  your  original  works  and  your  translations, 
1  feel  as  if  I  had  some  right  to  address  you  without  the  formality 
of  an  introduction.  I  wish  to  thank  you  for  the  additions  you 
have  made  to  our  knowledge  in  sporting  matters,  and  to  say  how 
heartily  1,  in  common  with  all  who  wish  to  perpetuate  the  manly 
and  healthful  sports  of  the  field,  concur  with  you  in  opinion  of 
the  desirableness  of  some  measure  of  legislation  which  may  arrest 
the  rapid  destruction  of  the  noble  birds  which  yet  adorn  our 
prairies  and  forests,  and  which  will  render  it  penal — it  ought  to 
be  infamous — to  kill  game  either  in  the  breeding  season  or  before 
the  young  birds  have  acquired  full  strength  of  wing. 

I  have  been  particularly  strucJc  with  the  article  on  Grouse  shoot- 
ing, in  vol.  1,  and  seq.,p.24S,of  your"  Field  Sports."  With  the 
principles  which  actuate  you  1  entirely  concur.  But,  as  I  con- 
ceive, you  are  slightly  inaccurate  in  several  particulars  of  the 
natural  history  of  the  Pinnated  Grouse  :  and  this  has  led  you  into 
error — as  I  think — in  fixing  the  time — middle  of  October — when 
Grouse  shooting  ought  to  begin. 

Secondly,  I  think  you  are  gastronomically  wrong  when  you 
speak  of  the  07ihj  mode  in  which  the  Grouse,  when  legitimately 
killed,  should  be  cooked  for  the  rational  epicure.     In  my  opinion 


II. 


Mil 
[:1 


111  11 


'^fll 


258 


FRANK   FORKSTKR'S  FIKM)    SPORTS. 


Ill 


you  havo  not  indioatcd  the  best  mode  of  preparing  liiiu  for  tin' 
table;  of  which  more  will  be  said  presently.  1  will  state  the 
reasons  for  my  dissent  from  your  views  ;  and  you  must  bear  with 
me  if  I  am  tedious. 

You  say,  vol.  1,  p.  24:',  "  About  the  first  of  August  the  young 
arc  about  equal  in  size  to  tlie  Quail,"  &r. 

I  speak  for  the  West  only  in  what  follows.  There  may  be  a 
difference  in  the  habits  of  the  birds  here  and  in  the  Atlantic 
States  ;  I  am  inclined  to  think  there  is.  I  am  of  opinion  that 
the  months  of  April  and  May  are  warmer,  and  September  and 
October  are  colder  in  Missouri  and  Illinois  than  in  Maryland. 
My  professional  engagements — I  am  a  lav?yer — prevent  my  giving 
to  the  habits  of  the  Grouse  the  study  to  which  my  tastes  incline 
me.  I  cannot  say,  with  accuracy,  at  what  time  their  nests  are 
finished,  or  their  broods  hatched.  But  the  young  birds  are  much 
larger  than  Quail  on  the  first  of  July;  and  in  this  condition, 
scarcely  able  to  flutter  out  of  the  grass,  they  are,  to  the  disgrace 
of  all  participants  in  or  encouragers  of  the  atrocity,  killed  in 
great  numbers,  sold  dearly,  and  eaten  greedily.  At  this  time  the 
flesh  is  white,  tender,  and  tasteless. 

I  do  not  desire  you  to  hold  your  hand  from  smiting  "  Tom 
Trigor,"  and  all  who  are  like  unto  him,  according  to  their  de- 
serts. But  if  he  speaks  of  the  Grouse  in  the  States  of  Illinois 
and  Missouri,  he  is  as  far  wrong  in  his  attempts  to  give  their  natu- 
ral history  as  he  is  wanting  in  every  feeling  of  the  sportsman,  in 
the  article  which  you  quote  from  him.  My  own  experience  is  op- 
posed to  everything  ho  says  on  the  subject  of  Grouse  shooting, 
as  it  exists  in  this  neighborhood.  I  have  shot  Grouse  in  the 
first  week  of  August, — this  was  before  I  knew  better,  and  I  will 
never  do  it  again, — in  the  middle  of  that  month,  at  the  close  of 
it,  in  all  of  September,  in  October,  and  November.  I  condemn,  as 
decidedly  as  any  one,  the  shooting  of  any  bird  of  game  before  it 
is  strong  on  the  wing.  I  consider  the  first  of  August  too  early  for 
Grouse  shooting,  yet  I  can  assure  you  there  is  good  sport  by  the 
middle  of  that  month.     The  birds  are  of  full  size,  full  fledged. 


1.0 

ho 
it\i 

ang 

)c  n 
intic 
thnt 

and 
land, 
riving 
acUne 
ts  lire 

much 
dition, 
isrrrace 
Ucd  in 
mc  the 

l"Toni 

icir  de- 
lUinois 

|ir  natu- 

[man,  in 
;e  is  op- 

[hooting, 
in  the 
id  I  will 
[close  of 
Idcmn,  as 
Ibefove  it 
1  early  for 
It  by  the 
fledged. 


UPLAND  SHOOTING. 


25'J 


strong  on  the  wing,  and  hereabouts,  at  least,  wild  enough  at  times 
during  that  month  to  task  the  best  gun  that  ever  was  fired.     The 
sport  is  best,  however,  in  September  and  October.     During  these 
months  the  killing  heat  of  the  summer  weather,  which  sometimes 
proves  fatal  to  men,  and  frequently  to  dogs  and  horses  on  the 
prairie,  is  moderated  ;  the  birds  acquire  an  increase  of  strength, 
but  not  of  size,  and  get  under  way  in  a  shorter  time  after  rising 
than  during  the  summer.     They  do   not  lie  so  well  before  the 
dog,  but  the  scent  of  the   Grouse  seems  so  strong,  that  most 
pointers  stand  at  the  distance  of  from  ten  to  twenty  yards  from 
them,  unless  in  very  warm  weather  :  and  it  is  certainly  much 
more  satisfactory  to  bag  a  wild,  wary  bird  than  to  secure  a  tame 
victim.     After  the  cold  weather  we  sometimes  have  on  the  prai- 
ries early  in  September,  the  Grouse  will  sometimes  rise  for  days 
together  entirely  out  of  range.     But  in  those  days,  either  of  Sep- 
tember or  October,  when  the  morning  is  chill  and  frosty,  and  the 
middle  of  the  day  calm  and  warn),  the  best  Grouse  shooting  of 
the  whole  year  may  be  had.     If  they  are  driven  from  the  corn 
and  f.,  ibble  fields  at  this  time,  just  as  thoy  have  completed  their 
morning  feed,  marked  down  in  the  open  prairie,  and  let  alone  for 
an  hour  or  two,  the  sport  is  really  magnificent.     It  is  not  uncom- 
mon at  such  times,  to  find  them  scattered  over  a  space  ranging 
from  20  to  60  acres.     Not  more  than  two  or  three  will  be  found 
so  near  together  as  to  be  flushed  at  the  same  time,  and  very  often 
they  are  pointed  singly.     They  rise,  to  be  sure,  with  a  strong 
pinion,  and  get  under  way  in  an  instant,  but  still  they  cannot  bo 
termed  hard  to  kill,  I  think.     I  never   shoot   smaller  shot   at 
Grouse  than  No.  6,  and  after  the  tenth  of  September  I  shoot 
No.   5.     When  No.  8  or  No.  7  will  stop  them,  they  are  too 
young  to  be  shot  at  all.     The  instances  are  comparatively  few  of 
their  flying  off  with  their  death  wound,  whereas  nothing  is  more 
common  than  .or  the  Quail  to  do  this.     There  is  little  occasion 
for  shooting  the  birds  at  a  greater  distance  than  forty  yards,  and 
the  bulk  of  the  shots  are  at  birds  within  thirty  yards,  during  the 
month  of  September.     In  October  it  is  sometimes  otherwise,  but 


!  !t 


11      r1 


!!ll 


i\ 


I.  i' 


260 


FIIANK    FORESTERS    FIELD    SPORTS. 


i    i 


r; 


the  wiklu^'ss  of  the  bird  at  this  time  is  greatly  exaggerated.  If 
men  will  go  into  the  fields,  rating  their  dogs  loudly,  and  talking 
and  laughing  with  each  other,  the  birds  will  bo  wild  of  course. 
But  throughout  the  three  fall  months,  except  on  some  few  days, 
the  Grouse  are  not  too  wild  to  be  hunted  with  the  dog  in  suitable 
weather. 

There  are  some  exceptions,  however,  and  1  have  even  known 
them  to  occur  in  August.  Aftm-  the  loth  of  that  month  it  is 
difficult  to  distinguish  the  young  birds  from  the  old  by  their 
weight,  or  even  their  plumage  ;  ■uid  it  certainly  is  almo.st  impos- 
sible to  distinguish  any  but  the  most  backward  broods  on  the 
wing.  The  difference  between  the  general  size  of  the  birds  and 
that  of  a  backward  brood  is  very  appreciable.  It  is  a  difference, 
not  of  one  or  two  weeks,  but  of  more  than  a  month.  No  sports- 
man is  excusable  who  does  not  spare  such  a  feeble  prey.  I  was 
in  the  field  on  the  14th  and  15th  of  last  August,  about  30 
miles  from  St.  Louis  ;  and  on  the  evenings  of  both  days,  and  tho 
morning  of  one  of  them,  we  were  disappointed  of  our  expected 
sport  by  reason  of  the  wildnoss  of  the  birds,  although  the  weather 
was  warm  and  cloudy.  None  of  the  birds  we  killed  were  too 
young — that  is,  we  killed  none  which,  either  flying,  or  lying  at 
our  feet,  or  in  our  hands,  could  be  distinguished  from  the  old 
birds  without  a  reference  to  marks,  which  would  bo  as  obvious  in 
September  or  October  as  they  then  were.  We  used  No.  5  shot, 
and  made  many  shots  outside  of  forty  yards. 

The  number  of  these  birds  brought  to  St.  Louis  and  consumed 
annually  is  almost  incredible.  From  the  month  of  October  to 
the  end  of  February  thousands  are  brought  to  St.  Louis  every 
week.  Many  find  their  way  to  New  Orleans,  Louisville,  and 
Cincinnati.  At  the  present  rate  of  destruction  they  cannot  last 
long  ;  and  such  is  the  antipathy  to  liws  for  the  preserving  of 
game,  that  I  almost  despair  of  any  legislation  in  their  favor. 
There  is  one  ground  of  hope,  and  that  is  not  very  assured.  It 
arises  from  the  importance  of  this  bird  to  the  farmer.  Within 
late  years  the  numbers  and  depredations  of  grasshoppers  in  tho 


he  old 
,'ious  ill 
5  sViot, 

»nsumod 
tober  to 
18  every 
le,  and 
inot  last 
rving  of 
ir  favov. 
red.     U 
Witliin 
■rs  in  the 


tn'Iw\NI1  SHOOTINr,. 


2P1 


prairi;;  farms  Iiavo  p^reatly  increased.  It  is  noco.s«:iry  to  see  the 
clouds  of  this  insect  wliich  sometimes  infest  our  fields,  to  realize 
the  stories  that  are  told  us  of  the  ravarrcs  of  tlie  locust  in  other 
lunils.  Now  the  increase  of  th(!  numbers  of  tiie  grassliopper  has 
been  found  to  keep  pace  with  the  destruction  of  the  I'rairie  Hen 
or  Grouse  ;  and,  it  may  be,  that  some  step  maybe  taken  bytlio 
Iiej.'islafuro  of  Illinois,  proliibitinj^  the  killing  of  these  birds  by 
a  law  whieh  would  e((ually  benefit  the  farmer  and  tend  to  pre- 
serve OIK!  of  our  noblest  game  birds. 

In  July,  the  flesh  of  tlie  Grouse  is  white,  tender,  and  insipid. 
When  the  bird  has  attained  his  full  size,  his  flesh  is  dark  all  over 
the  body.  I  have  heard  some  per.soiis — of  the  class  you  mention 
as  preferring  tiie  breast  to  the  thighs  and  back  bone  of  the  ruf- 
■fjd  Grouse — msist  that  the  ))ird  was  better  when  in  its  half-grown 
state  than  at  any  later  period.  1  am  decidedly  of  opinion, 
that  until  the  Grouse  arrives  at  its  full  size,  its  flavor  is  not  per- 
fect, and  that  the  bird  is  finer  and  fatter,  cummunihus  aiuiis,  in 
.January,  than  any  other  month.  I  have  been  told  by  two  of  the 
best  and  keenest  sportsmen  of  my  acquaintance,  that  in  the  prai- 
ries remote  not  only  from  the  cities,  but  farms,  where  the  chief 
food  of  the  Grouse  consists  of  grasshoppers,  prairie  grass  and 
grass  seeds,  the  flesh  has  a  peculiar  and  very  fine  flavor.  This 
may  be  so,  but  I  have  never  had  any  opportunity  of  testing  it. 

1  now  proceed  to  my  second  point.  I  am  unalterably  of  opin- 
ion that  you  arc  wrong  about  the  mode  of  coo/dug  the  Grouse.  1 
have  fairly  tried  all  your  recipes,  with  a  wi.sh  to  be  convinced  of 
their  excellence,  and  I  am  free  to  say  that  roast  Grouse  with 
bread  sauce  is  not  unsavory.  But  it  hides  its  diminished  head 
before  Grou.se  properly  broiled,  served  up  very  hot,  and  eaten 
from  hot  plat(>s.  I  fear  you  are  rather  bigoted  on  this  subject. 
Much  theorising  has  hardened  your  heart.  With  the  purpose  of 
inducing  you  to  review  your — hasty — opinions  on  this  vital  point, 
and  correct  the  errors  of  speculation  by  the  lessons  of  experi- 
mental philosophy,  F  take  the  li})erty  of  sending  you  six  brace  of 
Grouse,  the  freshest  and  finest  1  could  .select  on  this  occasion.     I 


'  'i 


m 
m 


,.  1 


!■   i 


.1  H 


262 


FRANK    forester's    FIELD     SPORTS 


■  ! 


I  ; 


have  caused  them  to  bo  packotl  in  a  basket,  which  is  the  best 
moans  I  am  aware  of — except  hanging  them  outside  of  the  vehicle 
which  carries  them,  and  that  is  unsafe — of  preserving  tliom  from 
becoming  high.  I  hope  tiiey  will  reach  you  safely  and  in  good 
order.  Have  one  of  these  birds  broiled  quickly,  rather  under- 
done, [.s  a  canvass-back  duck  should  bo  roasted  ;  let  it  be  pep- 
pered and  salted  to  your  taste,  and  as  it  is  removed  from  the 
gridiron  to  the  hot  dish,  let  it  bo  juil  tr/uchcd  with  a  little  butter. 
Eschew  all  sweet  sauces — ^jelly,  &c.,  and  cat  it  with  nothing  but 
good  bread,  48  hours  out  of  the  oven.  Should  this  experiment 
not  please  you,  try  another  one  of  the  birds  on  the  gridiron  ;  but 
if  that  too  is  a  failure  in  your  estimation,  o'cn  have  the  rest 
cooked  scion  vafre — mnurais  ? — gout. 

I  conclude  this  very  long  letter  with  the  expression  of  a  hope 
that  you  will  be  induced  to  try  for  yourself  what  Grouse  shooting 
on  our  prairies  is  good  for.  The  journey  is  nothing.  Any  one 
who  has  the  lime  can  enjoy  it  pleasantly  here  if  ho  is  fond  of  field 
sports.  St.  Louis  is  the  best  headquarters  for  a  sportsman  in  the 
whole  country,  I  verily  believe.  You  will  find  hero  a  cordial 
welcome,  and  I  should  be  very  much  pleased  to  receive  you  as 
my  guest.  My  professional  engagements  are  so  confining  that  1 
can  but  seldom  enjoy  the  pleasure  of  shooting  ;  for  our  courts 
are  in  constant  session  during  the  whole  of  the  hunting  season, 
after  the  3d  Monday  of  September ;  but  before  that  time  1  am 
comparatively  at  liberty,  and  there  arc  others  here,  of  greater 
leisure  to  indulge  in  field  sports,  but  not  more  keen  in  their  pur- 
suit, who  will  rejoice  to  contribute  to  render  pleasant  the  visit  to 
the  West  of  a  sportsman  whom  every  other  one  in  America 
knows  by  reputation  at  least. 

I  am,  sir,  very  respectfully, 

Your  obedient  servant, 

T    T    G**** 

Henry  Wiu.iam  Herbert,  Esq.,  at  the  Cedars,  New  Jersey. 


jurts 

ison, 

|l  ain 

later 

1  P"'"" 
jit  to 

Icrica 


I      t 


II  i 


•!'    ! 


1 

7, 

.:'i^ 

'ir 

'',','■ 

as. 


'•'ll'lr  ,'  ■,;.■■■■  '       ,• 


s  .:' 


I] 


a  :i   r  'J..'  If.  .1 


Ai:i\ 


■ill   'lu  (■  1  •■.'  iiir: 


4   ^v 


TA^. 


^..i 


m 


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~T7 


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-.*■' 


vV;ff 


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■  iri  •!■     1 


I.    li 


•\ii 


i.>  rii  ii 


.ri-,i)-i  >;ii  ;  I'     ■  III 


ICj!  •  .r  .'ii  ''  I 


I     iiu'iM- 


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I'  I 
1 


f  I 


i  m! 


I 


VPLAtiD  SilooTl.Va. 


2r,:i 


AUTUMN    SHOOTING. 


.^r"'""^ ">■"•-.-' ..,„n,      "      '""""^^"""        . 

Am.  .ho  wll,„,v,  ,n  U,„  v,u,.,,.  .  ''  ^'^'""-S""-'  by  .he  rill. 

'^"'''•'««'-n.p,.,,,it:;-:;;:;'"'-'--v..i/ure, 

^•'■enJhe.,Ky„M„,„  """>»"-' -hero  1,„  fe,l; 

,^'>«"  'ho  , es.  :::;;•'';"•  "';•'  "-  nc.,>v.,r.'..„  .L  „,.„. 


l'.W.   V        ''^''""^^^««P°'•^- 
:  of  boon   nature  in  her  loveliest 

:;n-Uliesedaysarenot,asM 
.  ^■^'■^'.f  '»  ^'i^  beautiful  poem  haj 

^    the  i^lancholy  clay«,"  «  the  sad- 

^^est   of  the    year.'.  „o..,  with  all 
__^^^^_^^|p  d^fb.j3nce  to  that  sweet  hard  and 

'•«"  I  .-'gree  with  hi™  as  to  the  tonT  f''         ''  "°"''«  '-^"^^  ^^'-^«-. 

-  •>■  ^1.0  ^'^"--piationrft :::  :;:r ^"  ^-^^  ^'^'-^  -^1: 

J^  '«  true  that   we  know  ourselve  'rf  "",'^'"'""'^^"  ^'^'"'""• 
--e.  a  hectic  loveliness,  wlZ  "t  "   1  '°"'"^'  "P°"'  ^  « 

-"^umptive  beauty,  is  tie  p      'u  ^  '  V""  ""  ^'"  ^'^^^  of 
«"  exquisite  is  that  beautv    f      r  ^       ^'^^  ""^  ^^^^b.     Still 
--sphere,  the  aspect^t^rsltT  ^'^  ^^'"P— '  ^h 


tl: 


■I  t 


)      '    «' 


i  '  I 


I  I 


ri-^ 


H 


^  ':1m 


I  '■ 


FIIANK    FOKKSTKH  S   FIELD   SPORTS. 


pniinisc  oi' s[)iiiiif  ainl  tlio  fullness  of  Miminior  nic  liotli  iiiferuir 
tu  till)  tterciic  iiiul  ciilni  (lecliiie  of  tliu  woodliind  yuiir.  It  i(>ii(ls 
tu  (Ifiitli  iiiilt'cd;  hut  it  scoinH  to  me  rallier  to  rcst'iiililo  tJu; 
tniiii|uil  iiiid  jj;<'iit'('  clo.Ht!  ol"  a  \V('11-s|i(MiI  lilr,  hi'aulilicd  i)y  iIk* 
coijjsciou.siic.ss  <il'good  tlin-drt  doiirdurlni^  tlu!  iuMit  of  youth,  and 
ill  the  heyday  of  maidiood,  and  eiifichod  hy  the  hope  of  >flor  e» 
to  whine  lorlli  al'ter  the  winter  of  the  jrrave,  than  the  termination 
o.  an  existence  to  he  dreaded  ov  deplored. 

Every  land  has  its  own  season  of  peculiar  loveliness  ;  and  if 
the  sweet  spring-tido  of  soil  and  dewy  Knirjand,  with  its  May 
smiloH  and  its  April  tons  and  its  rich  hreath  of  llowery  fra- 
jfrance,  has  awakened  the  fond  syni|)athies  of  her  landscape- 
lovinir  poets,  the  many-colored,  ])urpU'-liazed,  and  silvi'ry-skied 
autumn  of  America  has  neither  heen  unlionored  nor  unsunjif  of 
lyres  worthy  to  liang  alolb  in  hitrh  niches  of  the  temple  conse- 
crate to  the  nohlest  tonmie  of  the  modern  junverse. 

The  true  sportsman  must  ever  he  a  lover  of  the  (dnirms  of 
rural  scenery,  and  for  this  among  other  things  1  love  and  honor 
sportsmanshi]).  I  do  not  helieve  that  any  gemiine  forester,  he 
liis  exterior  as  rough  as  the  shell  of  the  prickly  chestnut,  hut 
must  have  within  his  heart,  though  he  may  lack  words  to  define 
the  sentiment,  something  of  the  painter's  spirit,  and  the  poet's 
fire.  The  very  nature  of  his  pursuits  must  needs  awaken 
conteinplatioii  and  induce  thought,  and  I  have  often  ohscrved 
that  tlie  spots  to  which  lie  will  conduct  you,  apparently  with- 
out a  tliought,  except  in  reference  to  their  convenience, 
wherein  to  take  your  noonday  meal,  or  your  afternoon  siesta, 
will  he  the  very  places  to  charm  the  poet's  I'ancy,  or  fix  the 
painter's  eye. 

I  think  no  lover  of  nature  can  he  an  unkindly,  or,  at  the  bottom, 
an  evil-minded  or  bad  man. 

And  so — and  so  1  Instead  of  pausing  longer  thus,  or  solidly 
and  solemnly  discussing  the  theory  of  sporting  matters,  we  will 
at  once  walk  into  the  practice. 

We  will  suppose  the  time  of  the  year  such  as  our  poor  ballad- 
monger  above  quoted  has,  perhaps,  labored  to  depict, — the  time 


L'l'L.WK    SII(l()ll.\(i. 


2«;r) 


of  tlio  inoriiin^,  not  tliu  poi'p  of  diiy,  l)Ut  t'ii;lit,  or  Ity'r  liidy  ! 
iiiiif  of  tlio  ,Slii»!\v.sl)ury  dork,  wlicii  tlu)  iiutmniiiil  sun  liiis 
liflcd  Iiis  broiul,  jovial,  nultly  lii<o,  I'loin  IiIm  dewy  pillow,  iind 
niisfd  it,  looiiiin^r  liniri)  uiid  hlond-rcd  tlirougli  tlio  tliin  liii/.c, 
uhovt;  t  It!  inomitMin'.s  brow.  'I'liuro  liiis  Ix-cii  a  toiu  li  of  frost 
(luring  llio  niglit,  and  its  -ilvcr  fri'twork  is  still  vviiitu  over  the 
tlcH'j)  utlar-grass,  and  yet  unaltered  forii  loavos.  Tlio  air  is  clour 
and  brisk,  yot  l)uliny,  and  its  every  breath  seems  t(t  exliilarato 
the  mind,  as  if  it  vvcrt;  cliauipagiie  inspirt-d  Ity  llie  uo--triis. 

'I'lie  scene  is  ii  broad  and  guudo  valley,  bordered  on  eiliier 
side  by  hills,  cultivated  to  their  mid  height,  and  <rowned  aloft 
with  the  unshorn  primeval  woodlands.  The  meadows  in  the 
bottom,  ulong  the  clear  brimful  stnani — in  Hurope  it  would 
aspiie  to  be  called  a  river — are  grejsn  and  soil  as  velvet  ;  but 
the  woods  and  swamps  in  the  vale,  are  rich  with  evt-ry  colorthat 
the  painter's  pallet  can  artbrd  ;  the  blood-red  loliage  of  tho 
maples,  tho  gold  of  tho  hickories,  tho  chrome  yellow  of  tho 
poplars,  the  red  rusact  of  tho  oaks,  the  duU  jjiirplo  of  the  dog- 
woods, mixed  with  tho  sable  green  of  the  late  alder  t(,ps,  the 
everlusthig  verdure  of  the  rhododiinlrons,  and  the  liglitsome 
greenery  of  tho  willow,  forming  a  marvellous  succession  of  con- 
trasts and  accidents  of  light  and  shade,  all  blended  into  one 
hamionious  whole,  such  as  no  other  scene  or  season,  no  other 
clnno  or  country,  can  ev'illtit. 

And  at  this  time  of  year,  at  this  houi'  of  the  moniing,  and 
into  such  a  landscape,  we  will  imagine  a  brace  of  sportsmen 
emerging  from  the  doorway  of  tho  country  tavern  in  which  they 
have  spout  tho  night,  with  iheir  canine  companions,  and  a  stout 
rustic  follower,  loadi^l  v\  th  supernumerary  sliot-bolts  and  game- 
bags,  carrying  in  his  dexter  claw  a  stifl  hickory  cleaning-rod, 
and  leadhigwith  his  sinister  a  leash  of  large,  bony,  red-and- 
white  Cocking  Spaniels. 

Our  sportsmen,  for  the  nonce,  adopting  old  Izaac  Walton's 
quaint  nomenclature,  which  figureth  forth  something  of  the  cha- 
racter from  the  name,  we  will  call  AgiUs  and  Pcritus.  Tlie 
former  youthful,  fmd  somewhat  rash,  yet  neither  altogether  ver- 


•I     ii 


!i 


I    \\ 


2o6 


FRANK    FORESTER  S    FIELD    SPORTS. 


?    ! 


(lant  nor  inexpert  in  the  mysteries  of  tlie  fowlingpiece, — tno 
latter  deliberate,  though  ardent,  perfect  with  the  gun,  steady 
with  the  dogs,  and  a  master  of  those  noble  sciences,  hight, 
venerie,  and  woodcraft. 

They  are  both  aptly  habited  for  the  field,  in  russet  shooting- 
jackets,  of  stout  corduroy,  or  fustian,  long-waisted  waistcoats, 
low-crowned  hats,  and  ankle-boots  of  cowhide.  The  younger 
man,  however,  sports  a  pair  of  loose,  fashionably-cut  trousers, 
while  the  elder  has  donned  knee  breeches,  and  tight  russet  lea- 
thern leggins.  Each  has  a  double-barrelled  gun  under  his  arm, 
and  the  other  api)liances  of  flask  and  pouch,  hidden  in  his 
roomy  po('kets.  Neither  wears  any  game-bag,  but  an  ivory 
whistle  is  suspended  from  the  upper  button-hole  of  both  jackets, 

The  dogs  which  are  following,  docile  at  the  heel,  are  a  brace 
of  Setters  of  the  highest  breed,  one  a  red  dog,  with  a  black 
nose,  and  without  a  sjieck  of  white,  except  a  snip  on  his  breast, 
and  a  tag  to  his  fine,  feathery  stern, — the  other  black  and  tan  ; 
tlie  perfection  each,  this  of  the  Irish,  that  of  the  English  strain, 
and  indicating  in  some  sort  that  perfection  by  their  colors. 

"  And  so,  Peritus,"  said  the  younger  and  slighter  man,  as  they 
took  their  way  through  the  outskirts  of  the  village,  "  you  augur 
well  of  our  chance  of  sport  to-day  1" 

"  I  do  not  think,  Agilis,"  replied  his  friend,  "  that  there  is 
any  chance  about  it.  It  has  been  a  good  breeding  year  for 
Quail,  and  they  say  that  they  are  abundant ;  then  the  autumn 
has  been  seasonable,  and  the  nights  have  not  been  sharp  enough 
to  banish  the  Woodcock.  There  is  a  bit  of  pretty  Snipe  ground 
on  our  beat  too,  and  we  shall  get  a  few  couple,  without  doubt. 
Those,  with  a  brace  or  two  of  Ruffed  Grouse,  which,  I  dare  say, 
rt'e  shall  manage  to  pick  up  among  the  cedar  knolls,  and  along 
the  wood-edges,  a  few  Hares,  and,  perhaps,  some  Wood-duck, 
or  Teal,  or  even  a  Mallard,  by  chance,  will  make  up  something 
in  the  way  of  a  bag." 

"  Do  you  expect  to  find  all  these  varieties  of  game  1  I  liave 
never  shot  above  three  kinds  in  a  day." 

"  Ah  !  you  have  not  shot  before  in  autumn  in  America.    For 


t   '8 


UPLAND    SHOOTING. 


2G7 


this  very  reason  it  is  the  prettiest  and  most  exciting  sport  in  the 
world ;  that  you  (ran  never  even  form  a  conjecture  vvliat  is  going 
to  get  up  before  you,  until  you  see  it  on  tiie  wing.  Now,  my 
good  friend  Rusticus,  will  you  take  yourself  and  the  Sjianiels 
to  the  tall  oak  tree  on  the  brow  of  the  hill  yonder,  and  do  your 
best  to  mark  down  every  bevy  we  flush,  to  a  yard.  When  we 
rejoin  you,  we  will  couple  uji  the  Setters,  and  beat  the  swales 
arKl  thickets  with  the  little  dogs.  Now,  hold  up,  lads  !  look 
sharp,  Agilis,  they  are  drawing  already.  There  has  been  a 
bevy  running  here  since  the  sun  was  up.  See  how  gingerly 
they  crawl  over  the  tainted  grass.  Now  they  are  standing 
both  of  them.     Is  not  that  a  picture  V 

And  they  stepped  up  to  the  dogs,  which  held  their  point  as 
stiff  and  staunch  as  if  they  had  been  cast  in  bronze,  or  carved 
in  marble. 

"  Hold  !  Agilis  !  Don't  head  them,  my  dear  fellow.  I  want 
to  let  them  go,  if  they  will,  into  those  sprouts  on  the  hill  side. 
They  are  close  under  the  red  dog's  nose.  There  !  they  are  uf) ! 
Steady !" 

Bang  !  bang  ! 

"  Bravo  !  a  brace,  Agilis  !  very  neatly  done,  I  assure  you  ; 
you  let  them  go  far  enough  then,  yet  not  too  far,  before  firing. 
You  never  killed  a  Quail  before,  hey  1" 

'*  Never  on  this  side  the  water,  Peritus.  In  France  and  Spain 
I  have  shot  a  good  many." 

"  A  different  bird  altogether,  though  of  the  same  order.  Not 
half  so  bold,  or  strong,  or  swift  on  the  wing,  as  this,  which  some 
writers  call  the  American  Partridge." 

"  Is  it  a  Partridge  or  a  Quail,  Peritus,  after  all  V 

"  Neither  one  nor  the  other,  Agilis,  an  intennediate  link  be- 
tween the  two,  but  approximating  nearer  to  the  Quail,  See, 
the  red  dog  has  retrieved  one — good  dog,  Sancbo !  A  pretty  bird, 
is  it  not  1" 

"  Very.  But  what  did  you  do  ?  I  was  busy  trying  to  mark 
the  bevy,  and  did  not  see  your  shots," 

"  Oh  !  I  killed  two,  of  course.  It  was  quite  op?n.  Did  you 
mark  them  V 


2(i8 


FRANK    FORKSTEIi'S    FIKLD    SPOnTS. 


•'  No.  I  could  not,  with  certainty.  But  I  think  they  dropped 
in  that  bog-meadow,  near  yon  pine  tree." 

"  No,  Agilis,  you  did  not  cast  your  eye  forward  sufficiently 
in  w.itchin':^  them,  as  they  skimmed  low  over  the  ground  before 
the  wind.  Tliey  went  four  hundred  yards  farther,  and  are  down 
in  that  thicket,  with  the  willows  at  this  end." 

"  Aye !  you  have  a  keen  eye,  Peritus.  Well,  let  us  follow 
them  at  once." 

"  Practice  is  more  than 'keenness  of  sight,  in  marking.  But 
we  will  by  no  means  f  illovv  them  at  once.  We  must  find  seve- 
ral  othei  bevies,  and<lrive  them,  if  possible,  the  same  way." 

"  Must  we, — that  seems  strange." 

"  Yes.  I  will  tell  you  about  it  at  luncheon  time  ;  but  now 
come  on.  The  dogs  are  reading  another  bevy.  Look  forward 
beyond  the  crag  there,  by  the  cedars  " 

But  Peritus  was  in  error ;  it  was  not  another  bevy,  but  a 
Ruffi'd  Grouse,  which  rose  a  moment  afterward  with  a  loud 
whirring,  out  of  a  brake,  and  was  cut  down  handsDmely  by  the 
older  sportsman,  after  being  missed  by  Agilis  ;  who,  fluttered  by 
the  noise,  shot  a  little  too  quickly  at  him. 

Five  minutes  aftemvard  the  black  Setter  stood  suddenly  and 
dead,  in  a  dry  maize-stubble,  before  Agilis,  and  a  momeiit  later 
Sanclio  drew,  and  came  to  a  doubtful  point  in  an  opposite  direc- 
tion, without  seeing  his  companion. 

"  Look  alive,  Agilis ;  that  is  either  a  Cock  or  a  Hare  before 
you,  and  Sancho  is  ujion  a  running  bevy." 

It  was,  sure  enough,  a  Hare  ;  which  bounced  up  instantly  out 
of  its  form,  ninong  some  long  grass  and  weeds  in  the  maize- 
stubble,  and  was  tumbled  over  before  it  had  run  m;iny  yards, 
by  Agilis,  At  the  report  the  bevy  of  Quail  rose  wild,  and  at  a 
long  distance  ;  which  did  not,  however,  hinder  Peritus  from  drop- 
j)ing  one,  killed  clean  at  fifty  yards,  or  upward. 

"  A  long  shot,  and  a  good  one  !"  said  Agilis. 

"  It  was  an  Eley's  cartridge.  Loose  shot  would  scarce  have 
stopped  him.  Those  birds  have  gone  into  the  saplings  on  the 
hill-sidi',  and  they,  I  doubt  not,  are  full  of  Woodcock.  We  are 
sure  <jf  sport  now." 


UI'LAND    SHOOTING. 


SG9 


"  Shall  we  go  after  this  bevy  1" 

"  Not  yet,  1  had  rather  wait  till  they  hegin  to  run,  wo  mar 
very  likely  miss  tlicm  otherwise." 

On  they  went,  therefore,  and  perfectly  right  were  they  to  g(. 
on  ;  for  Pcritus'  mode  of  beating  for  Quail  is  the  true  one. 
Tiiis  cunning  little  bird,  liaving  either  tlie  power,  or  the  pecu- 
liarity, of  retaining  its  scent  fin*  some  short  fimi^  after  alighting, 
when  it  is  alarmed,  so  that  the  best  do'^s  in  the  world  shall  fail 
to  find  it.  This  may  be  an  accidental  provision  of  nature,  pos- 
sibly owing  to  some  contraction  of  tlie  pf)res,  and  consequent 
check  of  the  odoriferous  cflluvium,  owing  to  alarm  ;  but  I  am 
rather  inclined  to  bc^lieve  that  it  is  an  absolute  power  of  the 
bird,  and  arising  frcmi  an  exertion  of  will, — since  I  have  inva- 
riably observed,  during  the  jieriod  in  which  the  Quail  gives 
forth  no  scent,  it  cannot  be  forced  to  rise  even  in  the  openest 
and  most  easy  ground,  unless  actually  ahnost  trodden  on. 

I  have  repeatedly  marked  Quail,  literally  to  a  y;iid,  both  in 
open  bog-meadows,  and  in  woods  of  fall  tindxr,  clear  of  under- 
brush, and  have  beat  unsuccessfully  willi  good  dogs,  immedi- 
ately after  marking  them,  until  almost  convinced  that  I  was 
mistaken  in  the  flu:t  of  their  having  dropped  where  I  iriagined. 
Yet,  (m  returning  afterward,  wlum  they  had  begun  to  move 
about,  and  call  a  little,  I  have  found  my  first  opinion  to  be  cor- 
rect. 

On  one  occasion,  I  distinctly  remember  marking  three  Quail 
into  a  little  briar  patch,  on  a  dry  tussocky  meadow,  and  seven 
more  of  the  same  bevy  some  fifty  or  sixty  yards  farther,  into 
long  grass  and  rushes,  by  the  margin  of  a  boggy  stream,  under 
willows. 

At  this  time  I  was  jierfectly  aware  of  the  peculiarity  of  which 
I  am  s])eaking ;  but,  owing  to  the  lay  of  the  ground,  and  the 
direction  of  my  beat,  I  had  no  opticm  but  to  try  it  at  once.  I  bent 
the  briar  patch,  which  could  not  have  exceeded  twenty  yards  in 
diameter,  carefully  to  and  fro,  with  a  brace  of  Setters,  crossing 
and  recrossing  it,  and  myself  kicking  and  trampling  the  hushes. 
but  in  vain. 


■i/ 


U\ 


Ml 


'III 


■  I" 


Hi. 


270 


FRANK   FOnESTER's   FIELD    Sl'ORTS. 


I 


,.'  ! 


On  coming  under  the  willows,  both  clogs  stood  instantanoous 
ly  on  two  difTercnt  birds,  wliich  proved,  however,  to  be  Wood 
cock.  Eight  or  nine  of  these  latter  birds  we  flushed  and 
bagged,  without  moving  any  Quail  except  one  which  I  almost 
trod  upon,  a  second  alter  my  best  dog  had  gone  within  a  foot  of 
it,  taking  no  notice  of  its  presence.  My  companions  laughed  at 
me,  for  expressing  an  opinion  that  the  Quail  were  still  there, 
within  a  few  yards  of  us ;  but  it  proved  that  I  was  not  in  error, 

A  Woodcock  went  away  unshot  at,  or  at  least  unwounded, 
!ind  led  us  a  long  stretch  off  the  direction  of  our  intended  beat ; 
while  hunting  for  it  we  found  another  bevy  of  Quail  scattered, 
and  had  some  sport  with  it,  by  which  we  were  amused  an<l 
occupied  during  half  an  hour.  Returning  across  tlie  first 
ground,  we  got  six  points  at  six  single  birds,  Quail,  under  the 
willows ;  and  in  consequence  went  back  into  the  briar  patch, 
scarcely  entering  it  before  the  Setters  stood  on  the  first  three. 

The  fact  is  difficult  to  explain,  but  a  fact  it  is ;  and  it  occurs 
only  with  the  unwounded  birds,  I  have  never  known  Setters 
to  have  the  smallest  difficulty  in  footing  crippled  Quail,  which 
always  run  or  tumble  about  as  soon  as  they  alight,  or  in  point- 
ing dead  Quail,  I  have  even  seen  dogs  find  one  dead  Quail 
among  a  whole  bevy  of  live  ones,  which  they  could  not  scent 
at  that  time,  but  wh"ch  they  did  subsequently  hunt  up  in  good 
style. 

Therefore,  I  say  Peritus  was  in  the  right  of  it,  in  drawing 
his  distinction  as  he  did  on  that  day ;  for  he  not  only  imjiroved 
his  chance  of  finding  more  bevies  by  pursuing  them  while 
they  were  on  the  run  in  the  early  morning,  and  so  scattering 
them  into  good  shooting  covert,  where  he  was  sure  to  find  them 
again  during  the  basking  hours,  when,  unless  flushed  and 
marked  down  before,  they  can  scarcely  be  raised,  but  increased 
the  likeliho;ul  of  finding  his  birds  in  good  style.  And  all  this 
lie  explained,  in  many  more  words  than  I  have  space  to  use, 
and  with  many  an  apt  illustiation,  while  he  and  Agilis  were 
lying  down  under  a  sunny  bank  by  a  clear  springhead,  regalino; 
themselves  an  hour  or  two  after  noon,  with  the  cold  chicken  and 


UPLAND  snooTiNr,. 


871 


the  sherry  which  Poritus  had  rccommciicled  as  tlie  best  form 
of  luncheon. 

"  [  have  no  doubt  you  are  perfectly  rij^ht  about  this,  Peritus," 
said  his  friend.  "  Indeed,  the  practice  has  proved  the  principle, 
for  we  have  got  forty-five  or  forty-six  Quail  between  us,  out  of 
those  first  four  bevies,  besides  thirty  Cock.  It  is  glorious  sport, 
indeed." 

"Not  very  bad,  certainly,  Agilis ;  and  you  have  shut  well 
too,  which  inclines  you  to  think  of  the  sport,  perliaps,  with  more 
than  ordinary  compla(!en(;y.  But  mark  me,  if  we  had  followed 
up  that  first  bevy  wo  should  not  have  flushed  or  marked  the 
other  five,  all  of  which,  you  reincmber,  the  dogs  trailed  as  they 
were  rambling  about  on  the  feed,  before  the  day  got  warm. 
It  would  have  occupied  us  till  eleven  o'clock  to  pick  up  that 
one  bevy,  had  wo  been  able  to  move  it,  which  is  doubtful;  and 
by  that  time  all  the  others  would  have  huddled  themselves 
away  into  some  little  dry  sunny  nook  or  o  her,  where  it  would 
have  been  ten  to  one  against  our  stumbling  upon  them.  As  it 
is,  before  that  same  hour  we  had  stirred  six  bevies,  four  of 
which  we  have  used  up,  while  I  hear  the  other  two  calling  even 
now  in  that  great  swamp,  where  we  will  give  a  good  i^ccount 
of  them  likewise,  when  we  have  finished  these  cigars. 

"  Aye  !  I  observe  all  this,  and  see  the  sportsmanship  of  it, 
Peritus  ;  what  noble  birds,  moreover,  these  autumn  Woodcock 
are.  All  full  grown  birds,  with  fine  gray  foreheads,  and  pink 
legs.  They  must  weigh  one-third  more  each  than  the  young- 
lings we  slaughtered  in  July." 

"True,  O  king!  at  least  one-third  more.  Now,  don't  you 
think  we  ought  to  give  up  summer  Cock  shooting]" 

"  I  never  thought  otherwise.  What  between  the  thermome- 
ter at  ninety  in  the  shade,  and  the  myriads  of  mosquitoes,  I  do 
not  look  upon  summer  shooting  as  fit  sport  for  any  man  who  ia 
not  as  thick-shelled  as  a  lobster,  and  him  it  would  be  likely  to 
boil." 

"  What  autumn  shooting  we  should  have,  if  they  would  but 
abolish  summer  Cock  shooting,  and  enforce  their  own  laws  !" 
VOL.  I.  20 


I    JH 


SR 


272 


FRANK    forester's    FIELD    SPORTS. 


) 


J  i 


"  Aye!  intlecd,  but  let  us  on.  My  cigar  is  finished.  Hush! 
hush!     Wlmt  arc  those]" 

"  Wood-duck,  ])y  Jupiter!  eight  of  them ;  and  they  have  drop- 
ped in  tlic  bed  of  the  brook,  just  vuider  the  big  white  oak  tree  ; 
tliey  are  aiter  the  acorns.  Keep  the  dogs  close,  good  Rusticus  ; 
now,  Agilis,  cram  down  an  Ely's  cartridge  in  each  hairel  and 
let  us  steal  down  upon  tliem.  Try  to  get  a  sitting  shot  on  the 
water  first,  and  then  give  them  the  second  barrel  as  they  rise." 

"  Excellent !  excellent,  Peritus.  I  see  your  words  are  about 
to  be  made  good.  I  have  bagged  a  Mallard  already,  and  you 
two  green-winged  Teal — " 

"  And  a  Pin-tail,"  answered  Peritus,  "  besides  Grouse,  Quail, 
Hare  and  Woodcock.  And  now  we  will  have  ibur  or  five 
Wood-duck  ;  and  there  are  the  Snipe  bogs.  Off  with  you,  but 
keep  your  head  down  and  crawl  low ;  the  Wood-duck  is  not, 
however,  a  ^v'tld  Duck." 

A\'^ithin  ten  minutes  four  barrels  sent  forth  their  contents,  and 
five  Ducks  came  to  bag,  and  thence  the  friends  went  forward 
to  the  Snipe  ground,  where  some  eighteen  or  twenty  long  bills 
were  picked  up,  fat,  large  and  lazy  ;  and  thence  again  into  the 
wide  deep  swampy  woodlands,  where  the  yelping  of  the  Span- 
iels, the  flip-flap  of  the  rising  Woodcock,  the  whiiT  of  the  startled 
Quail,  and  the  louder  hurtling  of  the  Ruffed  Grouse,  succeeded 
rapidly  by  the  loud  ringing  gunshots,  gave  note  of  glorious 
sport  until  sundown,  when  the  increasing  darkness  put  a  stop 
to  the  joyous  labors  of  the  unwearied  sportsmen.  The  tale  of 
that  day's  bag,  and  it  was  a  real  day,  and  a  real  bag,  was  as 
follows : 

Seven  Ruffed  Grouse,  sixty-two  Quail,  forty  Cock,  nine- 
teen Snipe,  nine  Hares,  five  Wood-duck,  two  green-winged 
Teal,  a  Mallard,  and  a  Pin-tail,  brought  to  bag  by  two  guns, 
in  about  eight  hours'  shooting — one  hundred  and  sixty-six  head 
of  game,  of  nine  different  varieties. 

That  is  the  best  day's  sport  I  ever  saw ;  I  fear  I  never  shall 
see  such  another,  certainly  I  shall  not  in  the  same  region. 

Nothing  in  the  way  of  sport  can,  I  think,  be  better,  and  such 


CPLAND   SHOOTING. 


a  73 


was  twelve  years  since  within  fil'ty  miles  off  New- York,  such  is 
in  the  interior  of  the  southern  tier  of  counties  of  that  State,  and 
such  is  in  '  .hetls  and  hundreds  of  places  in  the  West,  the 
autumn  shooting  of  America. 

And  that,  mine  English  readers,  without  a  game-keej)er  or  a 
preserve  in  all  the  length  and  breadth  of  the  land  ;  and,  I  might 
almost  say  without  a  game-law,*  so  limited  is  the  sphere  of 
operation  of  these  latter,  so  narrow  and  pei-verse  their  enact- 
ments, and — above  all — so  little  are  they  regarded.  But  this 
alas !  will  soon,  if  not  amended,  abolish  altogether  the  Field 
Sports  of  America. 


P.  S.  The  above  note,  when  published,  was  subsequently  discovered 
to  be  premiitura,  and,  as  concerns  Rockland  County,  is  still  unfortunately 
incorrect.  With  rogiird  to  Orange  County,  it  exists  now  as  above  stated, 
having  been  passed  by  the  Supervisors  of  that  County,  to  whom  the  de- 
partment of  Game  Laws  has  recently  been  entrusted  by  an  act  of  the 
State  Legislature. 
March,  1851. 


nine- 


M 


shall 


274 


FHANK    KOllKSriiKV    FIELD    EPORTS. 


RAIL;     AND    RAIL    SHOOTING. 


|l  ! 


HIS  sincfular  and  delicious  little  bird 
is  so  peculiar  in  its  character  and 
hal)its,  although  of  an  order  which 
all'oRls  several  species  of  our  most 
(jsteemcd  game,  viz.:  GraUatorvs,  and 
the  mode  of  pursuing  and  shooting  il 
is  so  distinct  from  any  other  kinds  of 
sport,  that  I  have  judged  it  best  to 
keep  it  under  a  head  entirely  separate  from  other  field  sports, 
with  no  one  of  which,  in  truth,  has  it  the  smallest  connexion  or 
alliance. 


.!     I 


,     :       f 


!    i 


"  Rallus  Carolinus —  Ortygomctra  Carol'inus — the  Carolina  Rail — 
the  Sora  Hail — vulgo,  the  Rail, 

"  Male  9J.14. 

"  Passes  across  the  United  States,  both  by  the  inteiior  and 
along  the  coast.  Some  breed  in  New  Jersey.  Rarely  seen 
east  of  Massachusetts.  Extremely  abundant  in  autumn  on  the 
Delaware  and  other  streams  furnished  with  wild  oats.  A  few 
reside  in  Florida  and  Louisiana  in  winter. 

"  Adult  male, 

"  Bill  shorter  than  the  head,  rather  stout,  deep,  compressed, 
tapering.  Upper  mandible  with  the  dorsal  outline  nearly 
straight,  being  slightly  convex  toward  the  end,  the  ridge  flattish 
for  a  very  short  space  at  the  base,  very  slightly  extended  on  the 
forehead,  narrow  in  the  rest  of  its  extent ;  the  sides  convex 
toward  the  end,  the  edges  sharp,  inflected,  with  a  slight  sinua 


or  and 
seen 
on  the 
A  lew 


nesseil, 
nearly 

;  flattish 

(1  on  the 
convex 

rht  sinus 


UPLAND    SUOOTINt; 


27") 


close  to  the  lip.  Nasal  groove  hroad,  and  t-xteiidiiiir  to  two- 
thirds  of  tiie  longtli  of  tlie  bill.  Nostrils  linear,  liitcral,  sult- 
niedial,  pervious.  Lower  maiidilde  witli  tlie  angle  long  iiiid 
narrow,  the  sides  erect,  the  dorsal  line  8loi)ing  upward,  llie 
edges  inflected,  the  tip  narrowed,  the  gap  line  straight. 

"  Head  rather  smiil],  ohlong,  comi)rcssed.  Neck  of  inodcrate 
length.  Body  rather  slender,  much  compressed.  Feet  of  mod- 
erate length,  rather  stout;  tibia  bare  a  short  way  above  the 
joint;  tarsus  of  ordinary  length,  compressed,  anteriorly  covered 
with  broad  scutella,  posteriorly  with  smaller,  and  on  the  sides 
reticulated.  Hind  too  very  short  and  slender,  middle  toe 
longest,  and  longer  than  the  tarsus,  fourth  considerably  shorter 
than  the  third,  and  a  little  longer  than  the  second ;  toes  free, 
scutellate  above,  much  compressed,  witli  an  inferior  sliiirp 
margin.  Claws  rather  long,  exceedingly  compressed,  slightly 
arched,  tapering  to  a  fine  point,  flnt,  and  mnrginate  beneath. 

"  Plumage  rather  stifF,  but  blended,  slightly  ghtssed  above. 
Feathers  of  the  forehead  with  the  shaft  enlarged  and  slightly 
extended  beyond  the  tij).  Wings  short  and  broad.  Alula 
large  ;  primaries  curved,  broad,  tapering,  but  rounded,  second 
longest,  third  scarcely  shorter,  first  etjual  to  sixth  ;  secondaries 
broad  and  rounded.  Tail  extremely  short,  much  rounded,  of 
twelve  feeble  rounded  fi3athers ;  the  upper  and  lower  tail  cov- 
erts nearly  as  long  as  the  tail  feathers. 

"  Bill,  yellow  at  the  base,  dusky  toward  the  end.  Iris  bright 
chestnut.  Feet  yellowish-green  ;  claws  light-brown.  A  broad 
band  surrounding  the  base  of  the  bill,  the  central  part  of  the 
ciown,  the  chin,  and  the  fore-neck  in  its  whole  length,  brown- 
ish-black. Ear  coverts  olive-brown  ;  a  band  over  the  eye,  the 
cheeks  and  the  sides  of  the  neck  ash-grey.  Sides  of  the  crown, 
the  hind-neck,  and  the  rest  of  the  upper  parts  olive-brown  Tlie 
feathers  brownish-black  in  the  centre,  those  on  the  back  with 
two  marginal  lines  of  white.  Smaller  wing  coverts  of  a  lighter 
brown ;  secondai'y  coverts  margined  with  black  and  white 
markings  ;  quills  dusky  olive-brown,  as  is  the  tail.  Mid(ll(>  of 
breast  and  abdomen  greyish-white  ;  sides  barred  witli  brownish- 


m 


III 


iM 


■  i  -1     ^   ' 

■ii' ' 

876 


FRANK    forester's    FIELD   Sl'OTiTS 


)       i 


black  and  jrroyish-whitc,  as  are  flio  lateral  foatlicr.s  oftlie  ruinp; 
tli()S(!  ol'tlu!  iilxlomi'ii  i('<l(liHli-ycllo\v. 

"  FiCMigtli  to  011(1  ol"  tail,  0,',  inches;  to  end  of  wings,  Sj ;  to 
end  of  claws,  12  ;  extent  of  wings,  14  ;  wing  from  flexure,  4,^  ; 
tail,  2;  bill  along  tlie  ridge,  !!1  ;  along  tbe  edge  of  the  lower 
mandil)l(',  [!!;  tarsus,  lil;  its  middle  toe,  li''^;  its  claw,  42'i. 
Weight,  7  oz. 

"  Adult  female. 

"  Tlio  female  difTers  considerably  from  the  male  in  coloring. 
The  naked  parts  and  iris  are  similar,  as  are  the  upper  parts 
generally ;  but  tlie  black  around  the  base  of  the  bill,  on  the 
head  and  fore-neck,  is  wanting,  the  fore  parts  of  the  head  being 
light-brown,  the  chin  whitish,  the  sides  of  the  neck  light  grey- 
ish-brown. The  white  lines  of  the  back  are  duller,  and  the 
dark  bands  of  the  sides  of  a  lighter  tint. 

"  Young  male. 

'*  The  young  male,  after  its  first  moult,  is  intermediate  in  color 
between  the  adult  jnale  and  the  female,  but  more  like  the  lat- 
ter, the  black  on  the  head  and  fore-neck  appearing  in  spots, 
and  the  sides  of  the  neck  being  nearly  as  in  the  female." — 
Audubon's  Birds  of  America. 

"Of  all  our  land  or  water  fowl,  perhaps  none  ofTord  the  sports- 
man more  agreeable  amusement  or  a  more  delicious  repast 
than  the  little  bird  now  before  us.  This  amusement  is  indeed 
temporary,  lasting  only  two  or  three  hours  in  the  day,  for  four 
or  five  weeks  in  each  year,  but  as  it  occurs  in  the  most  agree- 
able and  temperate  of  our  seasons,  is  attended  with  little  or  no 
fatigue  to  the  gunner,  and  is  frequently  successful,  it  attracts 
numerous  followers,  and  is  pursued  in  such  places  as  the  birds 
frequent,  with  great  eagerness  and  enthusiasm. 

"  The  natural  history  of  the  Rail,  or  as  it  is  called  in  Virginia 
the  Sora,  and  in  South  Carolina  the  Coot,  is  to  the  most  of  our 
sportsmen  involved  in  profoimd  and  inexplicable  mystery.  It 
comes  they  know  not  whence,  and  goes  they  know  not  where. 
No  one  can  detect  their  first  moment  of  arrival ;  yet  all  at  once 


ni'i.AM)  siiootim;. 


27< 


iV-. 


irni> ; 

J;  to 

lower 
r,  4,V 


loring. 
:  parts 
on  tlio 
I  \)c\ng 
t  gvey- 
md  t\ic 


in  color 
.  tlio  liit- 
spots, 

bale."— 


ic  sportH- 
19  repast 
in<lceJ 

for  four 
[>st  agree- 
ttle  or  no 
It  attracts 

the  birds 

u  Virginia 
loat  of  our 
ystery.    It 
ot  where, 
all  at  once 


tlm  reedy  shores  and  griissy  miu'"''  ■  i  of  our  liirije  rivers  swaini 
with  tliein,  thoiisimds  iKiiiig  .somelimes  found  williiu  the  space  of 
a  few  acres.  Tliesu,  wlien  tlioy  do  venture  on  wing,  seem  to  lly 
HO  feehly,  and  in  sucli  sliort  fluttering  fliglits  among  the  reeds,  ;is 
to  rcMider  it  liighly  impr()bal)le  to  most  people  tliat  they  could 
j)ossil)ly  midvo  their  way  over  an  extensive  tract  of  country.  Yet 
on  tlio  first  smart  frost  that  occurs,  the  whole  suddenly  disap- 
pear, as  they  iiacl  never  hocn. 

"To  account  for  these  extraordinary  phenomena,  it  iias  been 
supposed  by  some  that  they  bury  themselves  in  the  mud,  but  as 
this  is  ev(!ry  yivir  dug  up  into  ditc-hes,  by  people  repairing  the 
banks,  without  any  of  these  sleepers  being  found,  where  but  a 
fe\v  weeks  before  these  birds  were  inimmerablo,  this  theory  has 
l)eeii  abandoned.  And  here  their  researches  into  this  mysteri- 
ous niiitttjr,  generally  end 'in  the  common  exclamation  of,  What 
ran  become  of  them  ?  Sonu!  profound  inquirers,  however,  not 
discouraged  with  those  difliculties,  have  prosecuted  their  re- 
searclies  with  more  success,  and  one  of  these  being  a  few  years 
ago  near  the  mouth  of  .lames  River,  in  Virginia,  where  the 
Rail,  or  Sora,  are  extremely  numerous,  bus,  as  I  was  informed 
on  the  spot,  lately  discovered  that  they  change  into  l'"'roii;s, 
having  himself  found  in  his  meadows  an  animal  of  an  extraordi- 
nary kind,  that  ap])cared  to  be  neither  a  Sora  nor  a  Frog, 
but,  as  he  expres.5ed  it,  something  between  the  two.  He  car- 
ried it  to  his  negroes,  and  afleiwards  took  it  homo,  wheie  it 
lived  three  days,  and  in  his  own,  and  in  liis  negroes'  opinion,  it 
looked  like  nothing  in  this  world  but  a  real  Sora  changed  into  a 
Frog  !  \Vliat  farther  confirms  this  cjrand  discovery,  is  the  well- 
known  circumstance  of  the  Frogs  ceasing  to  halloo  as  soon  as 
the  Sora  comes  in  the  fall. 

"  This  san^acious  discovery,  however,  like  many  others  re- 
nowned in  history,  has  found  but  few  supporters,  and  except  his 
own  negroes,  has  not,  as  far  as  I  can  learn,  made  a  single  con- 
vert to  his  opinion. 

"  Matters  being  so  circumstanced,  and  some  explanation  ne- 
cessary, I  shall  endeavor  to  throw  a  little  more  liglit  on  the 


278 


FRANK    FOIlKSTEIt's    FIF.LD    SPORTS. 


Bul)jt'<'»  liy  !i  nimj)li'  tlftiiil  dI'  facfrt,  liiiviiig  tin;  reader  tt»  (i)rin 
liis  own  llu'ory  iih  lie  jiIeaMCM. 

.  "  'I'lic  Kail,  or  Soni,  belotigs  to  ii  genus  of"  birds  of  wliiili  alioiii 
thirty  diU'ereiit  speciL's  aro  enumerated  by  iiutunilists,  ami  tiiesii 
ari!  disiriliuted  on  almost  every  region  of  the  liabitablu  parts  of 
the  earth.  The  general  character  of  these  is  every  wliere  tiie 
same.  They  run  swiftly,  fly  slowly  and  usually  with  the  legs 
hanging  down,  become  extremely  fat,  are  fond  of  concealment, 
and  whenever  it  is  practicable,  prefer  ruiniing  to  flying.  Most 
of  them  are  migratory,  and  abound  during  the  summer  in  cer- 
tain countries,  the  iidiabitants  of  which  liave  very  rarely  an 
opportunity  of  seeing  them.  Of  this  last,  tl'<!  Land  Rail  of 
Britain  is  a  striking  example.  This  bird,  which  during  the 
summer  months  may  be  heard  in  almost  every  grass  and  clover 
field  in  the  kingdom,  uttering  its  common  note,  'c/rZ-,  cnl;^  from 
sunset  to  a  late  h(mr  in  the  night,  is  yet  unknown  by  sight  to 
more  than  nine-tenths  of  the  inhabitants. 

"  Its  well-known  cry,  says  JJewick,  is  first  heard  as  soon  as 
the  gra.ss  becomes  long  enough  to  shelter  it,  and  continues  till 
the  grass  is  cut,  but  the  bird  is  seldom  seen,  for  it  <on>t;intly 
skulks  among  the  thickest  part  of  the  herbage,  and  runs  so 
nimbly  through  it,  winding  and  doubling  in  every  direction, 
that  it  is  difficult  to  come  near  it.  When  hard  pushed  by  the 
dog,  it  sometimes  stops  short  and  squats  down,  by  which  means 
its  too  eager  pursuer  overshoots  the  spot  and  loses  the  tiace. 

"  It  seldom  springs,  but  when  driven  to  extremity,  and  gene- 
rally flies  with  its  legs  hanging  down,  but  never  to  a  great 
distance  ;  as  soon  as  it  alights  it  runs  of!',  and  before  the  fowler 
has  reached  the  spot  the  bird  is  at  a  considerable  distance. 

"  The  Water-crake,  or  Spotted  Rail  of  the  same  country, 
which  in  its  plumage  approaches  nearer  to  our  Rail,  is  another 
notable  example  of  the  same  general  habit  of  the  genus.  Its 
common  abode,  saya  the  same  writer,  is  in  low,  swampy 
grounds,  in  which  are  pools  or  streamlets  overgrown  with 
willows,  reeda  and  rushes,  where  it  lurks  and  hides  itself  with 
great  circumspection.      It  is  wild,  solitary  and  sly,  and   will 


UPLAND    SHOOTING. 


27!l 


Hwim,  divo  ami  skulk  utiiler  any  cover,  siiid  Homi'tiinrs  siifler 
its(3it'  to  lit!  kiiiickt'il  on  tliii  liuiul,  ratlitit'  tiian  iIho  lu'luit:  tlio 
HjioitHiuan  anil  lils  doi;.  Tlio  WiiUm;  Itail  oi'  'ho  sanit;  i-oniitry 
is  noted  tor  tlm  liko  lnd'iu.  In  slii/rt,  tlio  wh  In  ,«  nus  possess 
I  Ills  strange  family  chanclor  i  ,  a  vciy  itiiiMikuJili  d.'grt'e. 

"  Those  thn  e  species  are  At,'  I  kix.v/ti  to  ir;  ^raio  into  Hritain 
oarly  in  the  spring,  and  to  leave  it  {'(,;•  l!,o  nuro  souther.,'  parts 
of  Europe  in  autumn.  Yet  they  :u'o  rare'r  or  never  toon  in 
their  passage  to  or  from  the  coviutrios,  whoi<.*  ihay  arf  loguki/ly 
found  at  diin-rent  seasons  .»*'  t!io  yon'.,  an.l  tliis  i'.w  Uu;  Mjry 
same  reasons,  that  tluy  iu\;  sc  rarely  -.een  <;vi;''  i')  the  pla  ■iJ^•. 
they  inhal)it.  It  is  not,  ther'-'fore,  at  all  s."iMiMMi;,  thiJ  t)iO  v.  • 
gular  migrations  of  the  American  Rail  tr  S>)v::,  shor.ld  in  Jik( 
maimer  have  escaped  notice  iii  a  country  I'lt;  tnl.i,  \v!i  vie  p-ipu 
lution  hears  so  small  a  propo**, ',en  to  its  extcil,  aixl  whore  the 
study  of  natural  history  is  sd  little  tiitcnl.^  I  to  V.  :t  tliat  ihes'j 
migratirmsdo  actually  take  pl-ire,  from  north  tos'Hith,  and  rire 
versfl,  may  bo  fairly  inferred  frotn  the  co'nmon  pra<  ti  e  nl  tiiou- 
sands  of  other  species  of  birds,  let  u  hol/oitou'.  of  c«jn'e;lineut. 
and  also  from  the  following  facts  : — 

"On  th-  23d  day  of  February,  I  killed  two  of  t'l,--:.;  birds  lu 
the  neighborhood  of  Savannah,  in  (iL-irgia,  where  tliey  hnve 
never  been  observed  during  tlie  f.umniej'.  On  the  second  day 
of  the  May  following,  I  bhot  another  in  a  watery  thicket,  below 
Philadelphia,  between  the  rivrTs  .Scriylkil'  and  Delaware,  in 
what  is  usually  called  the  Neck,  This  last  was  a  male  in  full 
plumage.  We  are  alsi  laf-rined  ^ln;t  ibey  arrive  at  Hudson's 
Bay  early  in  Sunn.  -xiA  again  leave  that  settlement  for  the 
South  early  i^^  a.'iumn. 

"  That  u.!i!.y  uf  them  also  remain  here  to  brecfl,  is  proved  by 
tic  ces;imony  of  persons  of  credit  and  intelligence,  with  whom 
I  have  conversed,  both  here  and  on  James  River,  in  Viiginia, 
who  have  seen  their  nests,  eggs,  and  young.  In  the  extensive 
meadows  that  border  the  Schuylkill  and  Delaware,  it  was  for- 
merly common,  before  the  country  was  so  thickly  settled,  to 
find  young  Rail   in  the   first  mowing  time,  amonir  the  grass 


t 


1 1' 


It 


i'l 


!  I 


280 


IHANK    FOnESTKU  S    FIKLD    SPORTS. 


Mr.  .Tmiik's  Eartiam,  brother  to  the  botanist,  a  venerabli!  and 
still  activi'  man,  of  eighty-three,  and  well  acquainted  with  thin 
bird,  .says,  that  ho  lias  often  seen  and  cauglit  young  Rail  hi  h^ 
own  nuadows,  in  the  month  of  June  ;  he  has  also  seen  the  nest, 
wliich,  he  says,  is  usually  in  a  tussock  of  grass,  is  formed  of  a 
little  dry  grass,  and  had  four  or  five  eggs  of  dirty  whitish  color, 
with  brown,  or  blackish  spots.  The  young  run  off  as  soon  as 
they  break  the  shell,  are  then  quite  black,  and  run  about  among 
the  grass,  like  mice.  The  old  ones  he  has  very  rarely  observed 
at  that  time,  I  ut  the  young  often.  Almost  every  old  settler  along 
these  meadows,  with  whom  I  have  conversed,  has  occasionally 
seen  young  Rail  in  mowing  time,  and  all  agree  in  describing 
them  as  covered  with  blackish  down.  There  can,  thei'cfore,  be 
no  reason.able  doubt  as  to  the  residence  of  many  of  those  birds, 
both  here  and  to  the  northward,  during  the  summer. 

"  That  there  can  be  as  little  doubt  as  to  their  winter  retreat, 
will  appear  more  partictdarly  towards  the  sequel  of  the  present 
account. 

"  During  their  residence  here  in  summer,  their  manners  exactly 
correspond  with  those  of  the  Water-crake  of  Britain,  already 
quoted,  so  that  though  actually  a  different  species,  their  parti- 
cular habits,  common  places  of  resort,  and  eagerness  for  con- 
cealment, are  as  nearly  the  same  as  the  nature  of  the  climates 
will  admit. 

"  Early  in  August,  when  tlie  reeds  along  the  shores  of  the  De- 
laware have  attained  their  full  growth,  the  Rail  resort  to  them 
in  great  numbers,  to  feed  on  the  seeds  of  this  plant,  of  which 
they,  as  well  as  the  Rice-birds,  and  several  others,  are  immo- 
derately fotid.  These  reeds,  which  appear  to  be  the  Zizania 
pan'icvia  rjf'usa  of  Lintriuus,  and  the  Zizania  clavvlosa  of  Willin- 
den,  grow  up  from  the  soft  muddy  shores  of  the  tide-water, 
which  are,  alteniately,  dry,  and  covered  with  f<)ur  or  five  feet  of 
water.  They  rise  with  an  erect  tapering  stem,  to  the  height  of 
eight  or  ten  feet,  being  nearly  as  thick  below  as  a  man's  wrist, 
and  cover  tracts  along  the  river  for  many  acres.  The  cattle 
feed  on  their  long,  green  leaves,  with  avidity,  and  wade  in  aftei 


UPLAND    SHOOTING. 


281 


leDe- 
tliem 
which 
imtno- 
izavia 
Willin- 
-watcr, 
feet  of 
ight  of 
8  wrist, 
c  cattle 
111  aftei 


thorn  as  far  as  they  dare  safely  venture.  They  grow  uji  so  close 
together,  that  except  at  or  near  high  water,  a  hont  can  with 
difficulty  make  its  way  through  among  them.  The  s(!eds  are 
produced  at  the  tf)p  of  the  plant,  the  hlossoms,  or  male  parts, 
occupying  the  lower  hranches  of  the  pannicle,  and  the  seeds  the 
higher.  The  seeds  are  nearly  as  long  as  a  common-sized  pin, 
somewhat  more  slender,  white,  sweet  to  the  taste,  and  very  nu- 
tritive, as  appears  by  tl\eir  effects  on  the  various  birds  that  feed 
on  them  at  tliis  season.  Wlien  the  reeds  are  in  this  state,  and 
even  while  in  blossom,  the  Rail  are  found  to  have  taken  pos- 
session of  them  in  great  numbers.  These  are  generally  nume- 
rous, in  proportion  to  the  full  and  promising  crop  of  the  former. 
As  you  walk  along  the  embankment  of  the  river,  at  tliis  season, 
you  hear  them  squeaking  in  eveiy  direction,  like  young  puppies. 
If  a  stone  be  thrown  among  the  reeds,  there  is  a  general  out- 
cry, and  a  reiterated  Inii,  kuh,  kvli, — something  like  that  of  a 
Guinea-fowl.  Any  sudden  noise,  or  discharge  of  a  gun,  pro- 
duces the  same  effect.  In  the  meantime,  none  are  to  be  seen, 
unless  it  be  at  or  nciar  high  water, — for  when  the  tide  is  low, 
they  universally  secrete  themselves  among  the  interstices  of  the 
reeds ;  and  you  may  walk  past,  and  even  over  them,  where 
there  are  hundreds,  without  seeing  a  single  individual.  On  their 
first  arrival,  they  are  generally  lean  and  unfit  for  the  table,  but 
as  the  seeds  ripen,  they  rapidly  fatten,  and  from  the  20th  Sep- 
tember to  the  middle  of  October,  are  excellent,  and  eagerly 
sought  after.  The  usual  method  of  shooting  them  in  this  quar- 
ter of  the  country,  is  as  follows. 

"  The  sportsman  furnislies  himself  with  a  light  batteau,  and  a 
stout,  experienced  boatman,  witli  a  pole  of  twelve  or  fifteen  feet 
long,  thickened  nt  the  lower  end,  to  prevent  it  from  sinking  too 
deep  in  the  mud.  About  two  hours  or  so  before  high  water, 
they  enter  the  rseds,  and  each  takes  his  post, — the  sportsman 
standing  in  the  bow,  ready  for  action,  the  boatman  on  the  stem- 
seat,  pushing  hcT  steadily  through  the  reeds.  The  Rail  gene- 
rally spring  singly  as  the  boat  advances,  and  at  a  short  distance 
a-head,  are  instantly  shot  down,  while  the  boatman,  keeping 


I 


' 


I'  ii 


2S2 


Fn.\NK    FOKKSTEU'S    FIELD    SrOIiTS. 


his  eye  on  the  spot  where  tlie  biiJ  fell,  directs  the  boat  forward, 
and  picks  the  bird  up,  while  the  gunner  is  loading.  It  is  also 
the  boalin;in's  business  to  keep  a  sharp  look-out,  and  give;  the 
word  '  ^fark,'  when  a  Kail  springs  on  either  side,  without  being 
observed  by  the  sjjortsman,  and  to  note  the  exact  spot  where  it 
falls,  until  he  has  picked  it  up  ;  for  this  once  lost  sight  of,  owing 
to  the  sameness  in  the  ajipearance  of  the  reeds,  is  seldom  found 
again.  In  this  manner  the  boat  moves  steadily  through  and 
over  the  reeds,  the  birds  flushing  and  falling,  the  gunner  load- 
ing and  firing,  while  the  boatman  is  pushing  and  picking  rip. 
The  sport  continues  an  hour  or  two  after  high  water,  when 
the  shallowness  of  the  water,  and  the  strength  and  weight  of 
the  floating  reeds,  as  also  the  backwardness  of  the  game  to 
spring,  as  the  tide  decreases,  oblige  them  to  return.  Several 
boats  are  sometimes  within  a  short  distance  of  each  other,  and 
a  perpetual  cracking  of  musketry  prevail  above  the  whole 
reedy  shores  of  the  river.  In  these  excursions,  it  is  not  un- 
common for  an  active  and  expert  marksman  to  kill  ten  or  twelve 
dozen  in  a  tide.  They  are  usually  shot  singly,  though  I  have 
known  five  killed  at  one  discharge  of  a  double-barrelled  piece. 
These  instances,  however,  are  rare.  The  flight  of  these  birds 
among  the  reeds,  is  usually  low,  and  shelter  being  abundant,  is 
rarely  extended  to  more  than  fifty  or  one  hundred  yards.  When 
winged,  and  uninjured  in  their  legs,  they  swim  and  dive  with 
great  rapidity,  and  are  seldom  seen  to  rise  again.  I  have  seve- 
ral times,  on  such  occasions,  discovered  them  clinging  with  their 
feet  to  the  reeds  under  the  water,  and  at  other  times  skulking 
under  the  floating  reeds,  with  their  bills  just  above  the  surface  ; 
sometimes,  when  wounded,  they  dive,  and  rising  under  the  gun 
wale  of  the  boat,  secrete  themselves  there,  moving  round  as  the 
boat  moves,  until  they  have  an  opportunity  of  escaping  unno- 
ticed. They  are  feeble  and  delicate  in  everything  except  the 
legs,  which  seem  to  possess  great  vigor  and  energy  ;  and  thei  r 
bodies  being  so  remarkably  thin,  are  compressed  so  as  to  be  less 
than  an  inch  and  a  quarter  through  transversely,  they  are  ena- 
bled to  pass  between  the  reeds  like  rats.     Wlien  seen,  they  ar« 


UPLAND   SnOOTING. 


2S3 


fe  gun 

as  tlie 

unno- 

bpt  the 

their 

|be  less 

ena- 

hey  are 


almost  constantly  jetting  up  the  tail,  yet  though  their  flight 
among  the  reeds  seem  feeble  ami  fluttering,  every  sportsman 
who  is  uccjuainted  with  them  here,  must  have  seen  them  occa- 
sionally  rising  to  a  considerable  height,  stretching  out  tlieir  legs 
behind  them,  and  flying  rapidly  across  the  river,  where  it  ia 
more  than  a  mile  in  width.  Such  is  the  mode  of  Rail  shooting 
in  the  neighborhood  of  Philadelphia. 

"  In  Virginia,  particularly  along  the  shores  of  James  River, 
within  the  tide  water,  where  the  Rail,  or  Sora,  are  in  prodigious 
numbers,  they  are  also  shot  on  the  wing,  but  more  usually  taken 
at  night  in  the  following  manner : — 

"  A  kind  of  iron  grate  is  fixed  on  the  top  of  a  stout  pole,  which 
':z  placed  like  a  mast  in  a  light  canoe,  and  filled  with  fire.  The 
darker  the  night,  the  more  successful  is  the  sport  The  person 
who  manages  the  canoe,  is  provided  with  a  light  ^laddle,  ten  or 
twelve  feet  in  length  ;  and  about  an  hour  before  high  water,  pro- 
ceeds through  among  the  reeds,  which  lie  broken  and  floating  on 
the  surface.  The  whole  sjiace,  for  a  considerable  way  round 
the  canoe,  is  comjiletely  enlightened, — the  birds  start  with  as- 
tonishment, and,  as  they  appear,  are  knocked  over  the  head  with 
a  paddle,  and  thrown  into  the  canoe.  In  this  maimer,  from 
twenty  to  eighty  dozen  have  been  killed  by  three  negroes  in  the 
short  space  of  three  hours. 

"  At  the  same  season,  or  a  little  earlier,  they  are  very  nume- 
rous in  the  lagoons  near  Detroit,  on  our  northern  frontier, 
where  another  species  of  reed,  of  which  they  are  equally  fond, 
grows  in  shallows  in  great  abundance.  Gentlemen  who  have 
shot  them  there,  and  on  whose  judgment  I  can  rely,  assure  me 
that  they  differ  in  nothing  from  those  they  have  usually  killed 
on  the  shores  of  the  Delaware  and  Schuylkill ;  they  are  equally 
fat  and  exquisite  eating. 

"  On  the  seacoast  of  New-Jersey,  where  these  are  not  to  be 
found,  this  bird  is  altogether  unknown,  though  along  the 
marshes  of  Maurice  River,  and  other  tributary  streams  of  the 
Delaware,  and  where  the  reeds  abound,  the  Rail  are  sure  to  be 
found  also.     Most  of  them  leave  Pennsylvania  before  the  end  of 


ill; 


1 


M 


284 


FRANK    FORESTER  S  FIELD    SPORTS. 


October,  and  tlio  Southern  States  early  in  November,  tliougli 
numbers  linger  in  the  warm  southern  marshes  the  whole  winter. 
" A  very  worthy  gentleman — Mr.  Hanison — who  lives  in 
Kittiwan,  neai"  a  creek  of  that  name,  on  the  borders  of  James 
River,  informed  me,  in  burning  hi.  meadows  early  in  March, 
they  generally  raise  and  destroy  several  of  these  birds. 

"  That  the  great  body  of  these  Rail  winter  in  countries  be- 
yond the  United  States,  is  rendered  highly  probable,  from  their 
being  so  frequently  met  with  at  sea,  between  our  shores  and 
the  West  India  Islands. 

"  A  Captain  Douglas  informed  me,  that  on  his  voyage  from 
St.  Uomingo  to  Philadelphia,  and  more  than  a  hundred  miles 
from  the  Capes  of  the  Delaware,  one  night  the  man  at  the 
helm  was  alarmed  by  a  sudden  crash  on  deck,  that  broke  the 
glass  in  the  binnacle,  and  put  out  the  light.  On  examining  into 
the  cause,  three  Rail  were  found  on  deck,  two  of  which  were 
killed  on  the  spot,  and  the  other  died  soon  after. 

"  The  late  Bishop  Madison,  President  of  William  and  Mary 
College,  Virginia,  assured  me  that  a  Mr.  Skipwith,  for  some 
time  our  Consul  in  Europe,  on  his  return  to  the  United  States, 
when  upwards  of  three  hundred  miles  from  the  Capes  of  the 
Chesapeake,  several  Rail,  or  Soras,  I  think  five  or  sir.,  came 
on  board,  and  were  caught  by  the  people.  Mr.  Skipwith  being 
well  acquainted  with  the  bird,  assured  him  that  they  were  the 
very  same  with  those  usually  killed  on  James  River. 

"  I  have  received  like  assarances  from  several  other  gentle- 
men, and  captains  of  vessels,  who  have  met  with  those  birds  be- 
tween the  main  land  and  the  islands,  so  as  to  leave  no  doubt  on 
my  mind  as  to  the  fact.  For  why  should  it  be  considered  in- 
credible, that  a  bird  which  can  both  swim  and  dive  well,  and  at 
pleasure  fly  with  great  rapidity,  as  I  have  myself  frequently  wit- 
nessed, should  be  incapable  of  migrating,  like  so  many  others, 
over  extensive  tracts  of  land  or  sea  1  Inhabiting  as  they  do  the 
remote  regions  of  Hudson's  Bay,  where  it  is  impossible  they 
could  subsist  during  the  rigor  of  the  winter,  they  must  either 
emigi'ate  from  there,  or  perish  ;  and  as  the  same  places  in  Penn- 


UPLAND    SIIOOTIN'O. 


285 


sylvania,  which  abound  with  them  in  October,  are  often  laid 
under  ice  and  snow  during  flu;  winter,  it  is  as  impo.stiible  that 
they  could  exist  here  in  that  inclement  season.  Heaven  has, 
therefore,  given  them,  in  common  with  many  others,  certain 
prescience  of  these  circumstances,  and  judgment,  as  well  as 
strength  of  flight,  sufficient  to  seek  more  genial  climate,  abound- 
ing with  the  suitable  food. 

"  During  the  greater  part  of  the  months  of  September  and 
October,  the  market  of  Philadelphia  is  abundantly  supjjlied  with 
Rail,  which  are  sold  from  half  a  dollar  to  a  dollar  per  dozen. 
Soon  after  the  20th  of  October,  at  which  time  our  first  smart 
frosts  generally  take  place,  these  birds  move  oil'  to  the  South. 
In  Virginia  they  usuully  remain  until  the  first  week  in  Novem- 
ber. 

"  Since  the  above  was  written,  I  have  received  from  Mr. 
George  Ord,  of  Philadelphiii,  some  curious  particulars  relative 
to  this  bird,  which,  as  they  arc  new,  and  come  from  a  gentle- 
man of  respectability,  are  worthy  of  being  recorded,  and  merit 
further  investigation. 

"  *  My  personal  experience,*  says  Mr.  Ord,  '  has  made  me  ac- 
quainted with  a  fact  in  the  history  of  the  Rail,  which,  perhaps, 
is  not  generally  known, — and  I  shall  as  briully  as  possible  com- 
municate it  to  you.  Some  time  in  the  autumn  of  the  yeat  1809, 
as  I  was  walking  in  a  yard,  after  a  severe  shower  of  rain,  I  per- 
ceived the  feet  of  a  bird  projecting  from  a  spout.  I  pulled  it 
out,  and  discovered  it  to  he  a  Rail,  very  vigorous,  and  in  per- 
fect health.  The  bird  was  j)lac('d  in  a  small  rootn,  on  a  gun 
case,  and  I  was  amusing  myself  with  it,  when  in  the  act  of 
pointing  my  finger  at  it,  it  suddenly  sprang  forward,  apparently 
much  irritated,  fell  to  the  floor,  and  stretching  out  its  feet,  and 
bending  its  neck,  until  the  head  nearly  touched  the  back,  be- 
came to  all  appearance  lifeless.  Thinking  the  fall  had  killed 
the  bird,  I  took  it  up,  and  began  to  lament  my  rashness,  in  pro- 
voking it.  In  a  few  minutes  it  again  breathed,  and  it  was  some 
time  before  it  perfectly  recovered  from  the  fit  into  which  it  now 
appeared  evident  it  had  fitllen.     I  jdaced  the  Rail  in  a  room 


J 


'  I 

!  '   '  1 


E  ' 


I 


I 


'I  J 


286 


FRANK    forester's    FIELD   SPORTS. 


wherein  Canary  Birds  were  confined,  and  resolved  that  on  tho 
succeeding  day,  I  wouhl  endeavor  to  discover  whether  or  not 
tlio  passion  of  anger  liad  produced  the  fit.  I  entered  the  room 
at  the  ajjpointed  time,  and  approached  the  l)ird,  which  had  re- 
tired on  beholding  me,  in  sullen  humor,  to  a  corner.  On  point- 
ing my  finger  at  it,  its  feathers  were  immediately  ruflled,  and 
in  an  instant  it  sprang  forward,  as  in  the  first  instance,  and  fell 
into  a  similar  fit.  The  following  day  the  experiment  was  re- 
peated, with  like  efl'ect. 

"  'In  the  fall  of  1811,  as  I  was  shooting  among  the  reeds,  I 
perceived  a  Rail  rise  hut  a  few  feet  before  my  batteau.  The 
bird  had  risen  about  a  yard,  when  it  became  entangled  in 
the  tops  of  a  small  bunch  of  reeds,  and  immediately  fell.  Its 
feet  and  neck  were  extended,  as  in  the  instances  above  men- 
tioned, and  before  it  had  time  to  recover,  I  killed  it.  Some 
few  days  afterwards,  as  a  friend  and  I  were  shooting  in  the 
same  place,  he  killed  a  Rail,  and  as  we  approached  the  spot  to 
pick  it  up,  another  was  perched  not  a  foot  off,  in  a  fit ;  I  took 
uj)  the  latter  and  placed  it  in  the  crown  of  my  hat ;  in  a  few 
moments  it  revived,  and  was  as  vigorous  as  ever. 

"  '  These  facts  go  t(j  prove  that  the  Rail  is  subject  to  gusts  of 
passion,  which  operate  to  so  violent  a  degree  as  to  produce  a 
disease  similar  in  its  effects  to  e})ilepsy.  I  leave  the  explana- 
tion of  the  phenomena  to  those  pathologists  who  are  comjjetent 
and  willing  to  investigate  it.  It  may  be  worthy  to  remark  that 
the  birds  affected  as  described,  were  all  females,  of  the  Gulli- 
ftula  Carolina,  or  common  Rail ' 

"  The  Rail,  though  generally  reputed  a  simple  bird,  will 
sometimes  manliest  symptoms  of  considerable  hitelligence.  To 
those  acquahited  with  Rail  shooting,  it  is  hardly  necessary  to 
mention  that  the  tide  in  its  ffux  is  considered  an  almost  indis- 
pensable auxiliary,  for  when  the  water  is  off  the  marsh,  the 
lubricity  of  the  mud,  the  height  and  compactness  of  the  reed, 
and  the  swiftness  of  foot  of  the  game  tend  to  weary  the  sports- 
man and  to  frustrate  his  endeavors. 

"  Even  should  he  succeed  in  a  tolerable  degree,  the  reward  is 


UPLAND    SHOOTING. 


887 


n  tlio 
r  not 
room 
id  re- 
point- 
tl,  and 
nd  fell 
vas  re- 

eeds,  I 
L.    The 
gled  in 
cU.     Its 
•e  men- 
.     Some 
g  in  tlie 
e  spot  to 

;  ;   I  took 

in  a  few 

crusts  of 

O 

(loduce  a 
explana- 

[ompetent 
nark  that 
the  Gulli- 

Ibird,  will 

MKC.       To 

tccssary  to 
lost  indis- 
larsii,  the 
the  reed, 

Itlie  sports- 


rew 


ard  ia 


not  commensurate  to  tho  labor.  T  have  entered  the  marsh  in  a 
batteau,  at  a  common  tide,  and  in  a  well-known  haunt,  have 
beheld  but  a  few  birds.  The  next  better  tide,  on  our  resorting 
to  the  same  spot,  I  j)erceivod  abundance  of  game.  The 
fact  is,  tlie  Rail  dive  and  conceal  themselves  beneath  the  fallen 
reed,  merely  projecting  their  heads  above  the  surface  of  the 
water  for  air,  and  remain  in  that  situation  until  the  sportsman 
has  passed  them,  and  it  is  well  known  that  it  is  a  common  prac- 
tice with  wounded  Rail  to  dive  to  ;lie  bottom,  and  holding  on  to 
some  vegetable  substance,  support  themselves  in  that  situation 
until  exhausted. 

"  During  such  times,  the  bird,  in  escaping  from  one  enemy  has 
often  to  encounter  Avith  another  not  less  formidable.  Eels  and 
cat-fish  swim  in  every  direction  socking  for  jirey,  and  it  is  ten  to 
one  if  a  wounded  Rail  esca;  e  them.  I  myself  have  beheld  a  large 
eel  make  off  with  a  bird  that  I  had  shot,  before  I  had  time 
to  pick  it  up  ;  and  one  of  my  boys,  in  bobbing  for  eels,  caught 
one  with  a  whole  Rail  in  its  belly.  T  have  heard  it  observed 
that  on  the  increase  of  the  moon  tlie  Rail  improves  in  fatness, 
and  decreases  in  a  considerable  degree  with  that  planet.  Some- 
times I  have  conceited  that  the  remark  w;is  just.  If  it  be  a 
fact,  I  think  it  may  be  exp'ained  on  the  supposition  that  the 
bii'd  is  enabled  to  feed  at  night  as  well  as  by  day,  while  it  has 
the  benefit  of  the  moon,  and  with  less  interruption  than  at  other 
periods. 

"  I  have  had  my  doubts   as  to  the  propriety  of  classing  this 
bird  under  the  genus  Rallu.i.     Both  Latham  and  Pennant  call 
/   it  a  Clallinula,  and  when  one  considers  the  length  and  formation 
of  its  bill,  the  propriety  of  the  nomenclature  is  obvious. 

"  As  the  article  was  commenced  by  our  printers  before  I  could 
make  up  my  mind  on  the  subject,  the  reader  is  requested  to 
consider  this  species  the  GaU Inula  Carolina  of  Dr.  Latham." — 
IVilson's  American   Ornithologij. 

To  set  aside  the  possibility  of  continued  doubt  on  the  subject 
of  the  miofnition  of  the  Rail,  which  really  seems  to  be  so  por- 

VOL.  I.  21 


i^i 


V    J 


!    115 


im 


I'    ,\ 


288 


FRANK    FOnivSTER's    FIELD    Sl'ORTS. 


f'ectly  a  si-ttlcd  question,  as  to  render  it  impossible  that  any 
sane  man  in  America  should  persist  in  believing  that  this  bird 
burrows  and  lies  torpid  in  the  mud — I  have  myself,  hf)\vcver, 
met  scores  who  do  believe  so— I  shall  quote  Mr.  Audubon'rt 
personal  observations  as  to  the  migrations  of  this  bird,  which  he 
has  often  seen  with  his  own  eyes,  and  no  one,  who  has  read  his 
delightful  animal  biographies,  will  doubt  how  keen  those  eyes 
are,  and  how  accurate. 


»  ;  i 


"  This  bird,"  he  says,  "  which  I  think  might  have  been  named 
the  Pcnnsylvanian  or  Virginian   Rail,   enters  the  union  from 
the  shores  of  Mexico,  early  in  March,  when  many  are  seen  in 
the  markets  of  New  Orleans.     Some  reach  their  northern  desti- 
nation by  ascending  along  the  margin  of  our  western  streams, 
or  by  crossing  the  coinitry  directly,  in  the  manner  of  the  Wood- 
cock ;  while  those  which  proceed  along  the  coast  shorten  their 
jouniey  as  much  as  possible  by  flying  across  the  headlands  of  the 
numerous  inlets  or  bays  of  our  southern  districts,  returning  or 
advancing  more  slowly,  according  to  the  state  of  the  weather. 
Thus,  those  which  cross  the  peninsula  of  Florida,  through  the 
marshes  and  lagoons  which  lead  to  the  head  waters  of  the  St, 
John's  River,  instead  of  tvavelling  round  the  shores  of  Georgia 
and  South  Carolina,  fly  directly  across  toward  Cape  Lookout. 
It  is  nevertheless  t.uc,  that  a  certain  number  of  these  birds 
follow  the  sinuosities  of  the  shores,  for  I  found  some  in   the 
markets  of  Charleston,  in  April,  that  had  been  killed  in  the  im- 
mediate neighborhood  of  that  city,  and  I  obtained   others  in 
various  parts  ;  btit  the  number  of  these  is  very  small  as  com- 
pared with  those  that  cross  at  once.     When  their  passage  takes 
place,  either  during  calm  weather,  or  with  a  favorable  wind, 
the  fortunate  travellers  pursue  their  jouniey  by  entering  Pam- 
lico Sound,  and  following  the  inner  margins  of  the   outward 
banks  of  this  part  of  the  coast  until  they  reach  Cape  Henry 
Thence  some  ascend  the  Chesapeake,  while  others  make  for 
the  mouth  of  the  Delaware,  and  these,  perhaps,  again  meet  on 
the  borders  of  Lake  Ontario,  or  the  waters  of  the  St.  Lawrence, 


UPLAND    SHOOTING. 


289 


at  any 
lis  \)iitl 
)wcver, 
Llubon'a 
liich  \\o 
read  liis 
DSC  eyt'9 


n  iiamctl 
Ion  IVom 
3  seen  in 
crn  desti- 
stvcams, 
he  Wooil- 
irtcn  llieir 
mcls  of  thu 
|tuvning  or 
weather, 
rougli  tlie 
of  the  St. 
jf  Georgia 
Lookout, 
hcsc  birds 
imc  in  the 
in  the  im- 
others  in 
ill  as  com-  • 
jsage  takes 
•able  wind, 
.ring  Pam- 
|ie   outward 
pe  Henry 
make  for 
in  meet  on 
Lawrence, 


after  which  they  soon  enter  those  portions  of  the  country  in 
which  they  breed,  and  spend  a  short  but  agreeable  season. 

"  Every  person  ac(|uaintcd  witli  the  general  movements  of 
birds,  either  during  the  spring,  wlicn  they  pans  nortliward,  ov 
tlio  autumnal  months,  when  they  are  on  their  way  to  niililei 
dimes,  is  aware  that  at  the  former  period  their  anxiety  to  roach 
the  breeding  place  is  much  greater  than  that  which  they  feel  at 
any  other  period.  Thus,  in  its  movement  southward,  the  Sora, 
like  all  other  Rails,  when  returning  witli  its  progeny,  which  are 
yet  feeble,  and  unable  to  undergo  much  fatigue,  proceeds 
considerably  slower  than  in  spring ;  hence  its  appearance  in 
autumn,  in  multitudes,  in  various  places,  where  it  is  enticed,  by 
an  abundance  of  I'ood  and  comparative  security,  to  tany  for 
some  time  and  recruit  its  strength.  Thus  in  September  and 
part  of  October,  the  Sora  is  found  in  great  numbers  on  the 
borders  of  our  great  lakes,  feeding  on  wild  oats,  and  on  the 
reedy  margins  of  tlie  rivers  of  our  middle  districts.  Several 
natural  causes  prevent  birds  of  this  specii's  from  following  the 
soacoast  of  the  United  States  while  migrating,  either  in  sjjring  or 
in  autumn,  the  principal  of  which  is  the  absence  of  their  favor- 
ite Zizania  marshes,  which  are  but  very  rarely  to  be  met  with 
to  the  cast  of  the  State  of  New- York.  This  is  probably  the 
cause  of  the  great  rarity  of  this  species  in  Massachusetts,  while, 
so  far  as  I  know,  none  are  ever  found  to  the  eastward  of  that 
State.  These  observations  are  corroborated  by  those  of  my 
friend,  Thomas  McCulloch,  of  Pictou,  who  never  met  with  one 
of  these  birds  during  many  years'  residence  in  that  part  of  Nova 
Scotia. 

"  Having  seen  flocks  of  Soras  winging  their  way  close  over 
the  watera  of  the  gulf  of  Mexico,  and  between  Cape  Florida  and 
the  main  shores  of  the  Carolinas,  in  the  month  of  April,  when 
they  were  moving  directly  toward  Cape  Lookout,  I  have  very 
little  doubt  that  many  return  in  the  same  track,  in  the  end  of 
October,  when  the  young,  well-fed  and  strengthened,  are  able 
to  follow  their  parents  on  wing,  even  across  that  wide  expanse 
of  water.     I  shall  now  dismiss  this  part  of  tlie  subject  by  add- 


!•= 


'  li 


290 


FRANK   FORESTER  S    FIELD    «POUTS. 


ing  in  coufirmiitioii  of  tlirir  capability  of  protracted  flight,  tliat 
some  of  these  hinla,  when  accidentally  separated  from  their 
flock,  have  supported  themselves  on  wing  until  thoy  have  met 
with  vessels  several  hundred  miles  from  land  ;  and  fucts  of  this 
kind  have  hcun  announced  by  persons  of  well-known  respec- 
tability. 

"  During  the  autumnal  months,  a  goodly  number  of  Soras 
are  found  in  the  rice  fields  and  fresh  water  marshes  of  the 
Carolinas.  Sometimes,  also,  they  have  been  shot  in  sai^  water 
marshes,  in  spring,  while  (m  their  northward  migration.  At 
this  period  they  are  silent  until  forced  to  fly.  In  those  States, 
none  are  seen  during  summer,  very  few,  it  appeais,  remain  in 
any  part  of  the  middle  districts.  My  friend,  John  Iluchmaii, 
however,  was  shown  some  eggs  of  this  bird,  that  had  been 
found  in  the  meadows  below  Philadelphia ;  and  whilst,  I  was 
on  a  shooting  expedition  f  )r  Woodcock,  in  company  with  my 
friend,  Edward  Harris,  Esq.,  my  son  shot  some  young  birds, 
scarcely  fledged,  and  shortly  afterward,  an  adult  I'cmale.  .John 
Bachman  met  with  a  nest  on  the  shores  of  the  H'ldson,  and  I 
saw  two  in  the  marshes  of  Lake  Champlain." — Audulon^s 
American  Ornithology. 


li 


1  have  judged  it  but  proper  to  extend  both  my  quotations  on 
the  habits,  and  my  own  observations  on  the  shooting  of  this 
bird,  to  some  length,  as  the  first  are  very  peculiar,  and  the  lat- 
ter affords  a  sport,  which  though  I  think  it  for  my  own  part, 
rather  a  tame  amusement,  is  still  followed  with  much  eagerness 
and  zest  by  sportsmen,  especially  on  the  Delaware,  and  on  the 
great  Western  Lakes,  where  the  bird,  as  we  have  seen,  abounds. 

Tlie  United  States  contain  many  other  species  of  Rail,  most 
of  which  are  at  times  shot  by  the  sportsman,  while  in  pursuit  of 
one  kind  or  another  of  aquatic  fowl,  but  none  of  them  are  suffi- 
ciently abundant,  in  certain  spots  or  at  certain  seasons,  unless 
it  be  perhaps  the  bird  commonly  known  as  the  Mud-Hen,  to  be 
raado  the  object  of  especial  pursuit. 


UPLAND   SIIOOTINO. 


291 


it,  lint 
I    their 
vo  met 
of  this 
respec- 

,f  Soras 
s  of  the 
C\t  water 
on.      At 
,c  States, 
•cmain  in 
l^achman, 
hatl  heen 
list  1  was 
!  with  my 
Ling  l>i"ls, 
^]e.     John 
son,  and  1 
Audubon's 


otations  on 
ii,rr  of  this 
iiul  the  lat- 
own  part, 
\\  eagerness 
and  on  the 
!n,  ahounds. 
Rail,  most 
[n  pnrsuit  of 
sm  are  snffi- 
isons,  nnless 
rMJew,  toho 


This  bird  which  is,  properly, 

The  Ci.Ai'i'KR  Raii,,  or  S.vi/r  Water  Mausii  Hen,  Rai.- 
Lus  CiiEi'iTANs,  is  a  constant  resident  at  one  period  or  other 
of  the  year,  on  some  part  of  the  Ailiintic  coasts  from  f.ong 
[slaiid  to  the  Gulf  of  Mexico.  It  is  a  largo-sized  bird,  weigliing 
1 1  to  12  o/.,  and  looliing  much  largpr  than  it  really  is.  Tliey 
are  shot  in  tlio  l)ays  of  Long  Island,  and  still  mon;  abundantly 
in  the  vicinity  of  Cliarleston,  much  as  the  Sora  Rail  is  on  the 
Delaware  ;  the  boats  are,  however,  in  this  spttrt,  if  it  can  be 
8o  cidled — for  the  birds  are  largo,  clumsy,  slow-moving  and 
cannot  bo  missed — propelled  by  oars  or  paddled,  not  by  the 
polo.  On  Long  Island  and  generally  in  the  Middle  States,  this 
bird  is  called  the  Mud,  or  Meadoiv-IIen. 

The  other  species  commonly  met  with  by  the  sportsman  aro. 

The  Gueat  Reu-Breasted  Rah,,  or  Fresh  Water  Marsh 
Hen — Rallus  Elegans — commonly  known  m  Pennsylvania 
and  New-Jersey  as  the  "  Kino  Rail." 

This  is  the  largest  and  by  far  the  handsomest  of  the  tribe;  its 
weight  is  about  11  to  13  oz. — its  length  20!  inches  by  an  alar 
extent  of  22. 

It  is  rarely  found  east  of  Pennsylvania,  although  I  have  occa- 
sionally killed  it  in  New-Jersey.  It  is  a  constant  resident  of 
the  Southern  States. 

The  Viroinia  Rail — Rallus  Virginianus.  This  bird 
greatly  resembles  the  last  species,  though  not  much  more  than 
half  its  size.  It  is  properly  a  Southern  bird,  but  is  found  during 
the  autumn,  in  small  numbers  along  the  atlantic  coasts.  It  is 
killed  both  on  fresh  and  salt  water,  but  is  nowhere  exceedingly 
abundant. 

In  addition  to  these,  I  may  name  the  common  Coot  of  Ameri- 
ca, and  the  common  Galiinule,  both  of  this  same  family  of 
RALLiDiE.  They  are  principally  Southern  birds,  tliough  strag- 
glers are  occasionally  found  in  the  Middle  and  Eastern  States. 
They  are  of  little  worth  for  the  sport  which  they  afford,  and  still 
less  for  the  quality  of  their  flesh  ;  but  like  many  other  water 
birds  and  waders,  such  as  the  Bitterns,  Herons,  Egrets,  and  the 


I   i.  ill 


i 


fJ 


292 


FUANK    FOnESTEH'S    FIELD    SPORTS. 


liko,  '  (•  usually  killed  by  the  sportsman,  if  encountered  in  pur- 
suit of  other  game,  though  never  mudo  the  object  of  especial 
chase. 

None  of  these,  however,  can  it  be  deemed  unsportsmanlike 
or  snobbish  to  shoot,  while  in  ihe  field,  with  dogs,  us  it  is  to  kill 
Pigeons,  Meadow  Larks,  Thrushes,  or  the  like,  since  their  haunts 
and  habits  are  generally  in  some  sort  liko  game-like,  and  dogs 
will,  for  the  most  part,  draw  on  them,  if  not  stand  them  dead. 

None  of  these,  however,  require  any  fuller  notice  than  the 
ubove,  and  lience  I  proceed  to  shooting  the  Sora  Rail  on  tht» 
Delaware. 


Il 


UPLAND   SHOOTING. 


8M 


<'i 


RAIL    SHOOTING. 


I  -1 


ROM  tho  middle  of  August,  tnitll 
tlio  Hottintr  in  of  wintry  frosts, 
the  pursuit  of  tiiis  curious,  and  ex- 
cellent little  i)inl,  m;iy  bo  followed 
in  tlie  lociililii's  which  ho  fro- 
"  quent8,  by  those  who  caro  for  the 
■  sport. 

^  It  is  not  by  n!iy  moans  compii- 
^  rablo  to  those  kinds  of  shooting, 
which  are  followod  with  doi^s  in  the  field,  among  varied  scenery 
and  diverse  accidents  of  sport;  nor  is  the  bird  very  sporting  in 
its  habits,  nor  is  much  skill  recjuired  to  shoot  liim. 

Ho  is,  however,  delicious  to  eat;  he  literally  abounds  on  the 
reedy  mud-llats  of  those  rivers  which  he  ad'ects  ;  and  his  season 
is  one  at  which  there  is  little  or  no  other  occupation  for  the 
sportsman.  So  that,  between  the  epicurean  desire  for  his  Hesh, 
the  absence  of  more  agreeable  and  exciting  sport,  and  the  very 
easiness  of  the  pursuit,  whidi,  to  young  liands  and  bad  sliots,  is 
a  recommendation,  the  Hail  is  very  eagerly  pursued ;  and  dur- 
ing those  periods  of  the  tide,  which  permit  his  pursuit,  a  stran- 
ger might  well  believe,  during  the  Rail  season,  almost  anywlicre 
on  tho  Delaware,  sixty  miles  below,  or  thirty  above  Philadel- 
phia, that  tho  outposts  of  two  armies  were  engaged  in  a  brisk 
skimiish,  so  incessant  is  the  rattle  of  small  arms. 

It  is  the  habit  of  this  little  bird  to  skulk  and  run  among  the 
reeds  and  water-oats  of  the  flats  which  he  inhabits;  and,  owing 
to  the  peculiar  form  of  his  long,  flat-sided,  wedge-like  body, 
with  the  legs  situated  far  behind,  and  the  wings  closely  con» 


li 


!       I 


:;94 


FRANK    FORESTER  S    FIELD   SPORTS. 


pressed,  he  can  pass  with  sucli  ease  and  celerity  among  the 
close  stalks  of  the  water-plants,  tliat  the  shai-pest  dogs  cannot 
compel  him  to  take  wing  ;  and  so  thoroughly.is  he  aware  of  this 
advantage  which  he  possesses,  and  of  the  peril  he  runs  in  rising 
before  the  gun,  that  it  is  utterly  useless  to  attempt  beating  for 
him  with  dogs  on  foot,  or  to  think  of  walking,  or  kicking  him  up 
from  his  lurking  places,  when  the  tide  is  down. 

As  soon,  however,  as  it  has  risen  high  enough  to  allow  a  boat 
to  he  forced  through  the  partially  submerged,  partially  floating 
grass,  unable  to  run,  from  want  of  a  solid  substructure  on  which 
to  tread,  or  to  swim,  from  the  denseness  of  the  vegetation,  he 
has  no  choice  but  to  rise,  which  he  does  reluctantly,  and  not  until 
the  bows  of  the  boat  are  close  upon  him. 

His  flight  is  then  slow  and  heavy,  with  the  legs  hanging  down, 
and  the  wings  heavily  flapping,  and  it  is  rarely  proti'acted  to 
above  thirty  or  forty  yards  of  distance.  It  is  exceedingly  easy 
to  kill  him,  therefore  ;  so  much  so,  that  as  soon  as  he  mastered 
the  slight  difficulty  of  getting  accustomed  to  the  motion  of  the 
boat,  and  got  what  a  sailor  would  call  his  sea  legs  on  board,  the 
merest  tyro,  who  can  cover  a  bird  on  the  wing  in  the  slowest 
conceival  motion,  and  pull  an  inexpert  trigger,  can  scarce  fail 
to  bajj  man^  of  these  birds  in  succession. 

Tlie  boat  used  is  a  lon.^,  light,  flat-bottomed,  sharp-built  skiff", 
— flat  to  draw  as  little  water  as  possible,  sharp  to  force  its  way 
through  the  heavy  tangled  water-plants.  In  the  bow  of  this  the 
shooter  stands  erect,  balancing  himself  in  the  ricketty  rocking 
eg^  shell,  for  it  is  little  more,  while  the  pole-man  stands  behind 
him,  pro])(!lling  the  vessel  with  his  long  punt-pole,  the  more  ra- 
pidly the  better,  through  the  weeds  and  grass. 

The  nole-man's  duty  is  to  steer  and  urge  the  boat,  both  of 
which  are  done  by  the  same  instrument,  to  mark  the  dead  birds, 
and  collect  them,  and  to  get  the  advantage  of  all  other  boats  for 
his  shooter.  This  marking  is  by  no  means  an  easy  task  ;  as  the 
vast  expanse  of  level  green  herbage  aflbrds  no  points,  or  marks, 
by  which  to  identify  the  spot  where  the  bird  has  fallen  ;  and, 
moreover,  the  reeds  and  grass  are  so  thick,  and  so  similar  iu 


UPLAND    SHOOTING. 


295 


g  the 
;annot 
of  this 
rising 
mg  for 
liim  up 

a  boat 
boating 
a  wliich 
tion,  lie 
lot  until 

g  down, 
acted  to 
gly  easy 
nasteied 
m  of  the 
oard, the 
!  slowest 
carce  fail 

uilt  skiff, 
e  its  way 
)f  this  the 
y  rocking 
Js  behind 
more  ra- 

,  both  of 
ead  birds, 
boats  for 
jk ;  as  the 
or  marks, 
nien  ;  and, 
similar  iu 


color  to  the  plumage  of  the  Rail,  that  unless  it  is  marked  with 
the  most  perfect  accuracy,  literally  to  a  foot's  8])ace,  it  is  almost 
useless  to  look  for  it.  So  many  boats,  moreover,  are  darting 
about  in  all  directions,  the  rival  pole-men  driving  their  skirts 
with  all  attainable  velocity,  and  the  emulous  shooters  banging 
away  at  the  thick-rising  birds,  without  mucl\  caiing  whether 
some  other  sportsman  be  or  be  not  within  the  range,  and  in  the 
line  of  shot,  that  in  order  to  get  good  sport,  not  a  moment  must 
be  lost  in  bagging  the  dead  birds, — cripples  it  is  impossible  to 
bag,  so  quickly  do  they  dive,  and  so  cunningly  do  tliey  skulk,- 
and  that  at  best  it  is  a  matter  of  somi:  little  risk. 

Fortunately,  the  bird  is  so  easily  killed,  and  the  range  of  his 
flight  is  so  small,  that  very  light  charges,  and  very  small  shot,  are 
in  use.  With  the  recklessness  I  have  '<een  displayoil  in  this 
spoit,  were  large  charges,  and  heavy  sliot  used,  it  would  be  an 
affair  of  real  danger  to  shoot  at  Dullni/n's  Flats,  at  tlie  mouth 
of  the  Nesliaminy,  or  at  Perkins'  Fin's,  or  Newbold's  Island — 
the  best  places  above  Philadelpliia,  on  the  Delaware,  and  the 
only  places,  with  the  exception  of  a  small  flat,  of  an  acre  or  two 
in  extent,  before  my  own  door  on  the  Passaic,  where  I  have 
fever  shot  Rail. 

The  great  onus  and  excellence  of  the  sport  depends,  as  it  will 
readily  be  seen,  on  the  pole-man,  or  pusher,  and  with  two 
equally  good  shots,  it  shall  make  a  difference  of  nearly  half  the 
bag,  which  has  the  better  assistant.  Tlie  skill  at  marking  dead 
birds,  the  rapidity  of  bag;,ing  them,  aiul  the  adroitness  at  pusli- 
ing,  to  which  some  of  these  men  attain,  is  truly  remaikable  ; 
and  accustomed  to  the  society  of  gentlemen,  and  provided  with 
a  good  stock  of  sporting  anecdote,  and  sporting  information,  they 
are  generally  very  conversable,  and  discreet  fellows;,  witli  whom 
a  few  hours  can  be  spent,  not  only  without  tedium,  but  with 
some  profit. 

John  Horn,  of  Bristol,  in  Pennsylvania,  is  the  best  hand  of 
these  hardy  aquatics  I  have  ever  encountered,  and  many  a  good 
day's  sport  and  fun  have  I  enjoyed  in  his  company,  and  under 
his  guidance,  on  the  brf^ad  and  tranquil  Delaware. 


i 


• '    i' 

-h  . 

M 


1 1 


A\ 


296 


FRANK    FORESTER  S    FIELD   SPORTS. 


The  time  for  beginning  this  sport  dejiends  on  the  depth  'A 
water  on  the  particular  flat  whereon  you  are  about  to  try  your 
fortune, — the  moment  the  rising  tide  will  permit  your  boat  to 
mn  over  and  through  the  reeds,  you  must  commence  ;  and  your 
sport  will  continue  so  long  as  the  birds  will  ('.(jntinue  to  rise  be- 
fore you,  which  will  generally  be  until  about  the  first  (juarter  of 
the  ebb ;  but  as  the  water  falls,  the  Rail  become  less  and  less 
willing  to  take  wing, — and  in  similar  positions  of  the  rising  and 
falling  tide,  you  shall  flush  twice  as  many  when  it  is  making. 

There  is  little  more  to  be  said,  on  the  head  of  this  sport,  ex- 
cept to  give  a  few  hints  as  to  accoutrements  and  equipage,  on 
which,  perhaps,  next  to  the  merits  of  your  pole-man,  the  cele- 
rity of  your  shooting,  and  amount  of  your  bag,  will  depend. 

The  best  position,  as  I  have  obsei-ved,  for  the  shooter,  is  to 
stand, — and  the  best  way  to  do  this  in  the  tottering  ajid  fragile 
skiffs,  is  to  plant  the  feet  firmly  a  little  way  apart,  with  the  left 
somewhat  advanced ;  not  to  brace  your  legs,  or  stiffen  your 
knees,  but  rather  to  let  the  latter  be  a  little  bent,  and  to  humor 
the  motion  of  the  boat,  by  swaying  your  body  slightly  in  accord- 
ance with  it. 

It  does  not  much  matter,  however,  except  so  far  as  you  dread 
a  ducking,  reader  mine,  whether  you  chance  to  get  overboard, 
or  no,  for  the  sport  is  pursued,  invariably,  in  the  shallowest  of 
water,  and  drowning  is  out  of  the  question,  in  the  worst  event. 

As  the  weather  is  generally  wann,  a  light  shooting-jacket, 
and  straw  hat,  are  as  appropriate  a  dress  as  any.  Your  shortest 
and  your  lightest  gun,  is  the  best  tool  for  the  sport ;  but  a  largish 
landing-net,  on  a  long,  light  pole,  will  be  found  a  very  conve- 
nient appendage,  and  will  save  your  pole-man  much  time  in 
bringing  your  dead  birds  to  bag. 

Next,  as  regards  loading,  to  do  which  very  (piickly — at  all 
times  a  gieat  point,  is  here  a  sine  qua  non  to  good  sport — use  no 
shot-bag,  and  put  the  charger  of  your  powder-horn  down  to  its 
minimum  of  contents.  Half  the  ordinary  charge  of  powder,  and 
three-quarters  of  an  ounce  of  No.  9  shot,  is  an  ample  cliarge 
for  Hail.     But  if  you  arc  looking  out  for  flock  shooting  at  Reed- 


UPLAND    SHOOTING. 


297 


ii 


\  I  1 


dread 

loard, 
iwest  of 
event. 

ackel, 
shortest 

largish 

conve- 
time  in 

— at  all 
— use  no 
,vn  to  its 

dor,  and 
cliarge 

at  Reed- 


birds  at  the  8a.me  time,  as  is  usual,  it  is  well  to  carry  a  second 
heavier  gun,  with  an  ordinary  load  of  No.  8.  Sometimes  Teal, 
or  other  wild  duck,  come  across  you,  especially  while  going  up 
or  down  the  river  to  your  ground,  or  returning  from  it ;  and  for 
the  chance  of  these,  it  is  well  to  reserve  a  barrel,  if  not  a  gun, 
loaded  with  Eley's  cartridges  of  No.  3  or  4. 

For  greater  convenience  of  loading,  as  you  are  always  sta- 
tionary in  one  plaoe,  and  have  abundant  space  for  conveniences, 
you  will  find  it  well  to  have  a  square  wooden  box,  with  two 
compartments,  one  capable  of  containing  eight  or  ten  pounds  of 
shot,  and  tlie  other  a  quantum  suff.  of  wadding  ;  a  small  tin  scoop 
of  the  capacity  named  above,  three-quarters  of  an  ounce,  lyin;^'' 
on  the  shot,  will  save  much  trouble,  and  half  the  time  in  load- 
ing. This  box,  and  your  powder-horn,  will  lie  on  the  bench  or 
thwart  before  you, — your  copper  caps  you  will  keep  in  your 
waistcoat-pocket ;  and  by  the  precaution  of  being  thus  provided 
aforehand,  you  will  get  three  shots  for  two  with  a  rival,  who 
lugs  his  flask  out  of  his  pocket,  and  charges  with  a  belt  or  pouch 
after  every  shot. 

No  farther  rules  are  needed,  except  the  old  one,  which  can- 
not be  too  often  repeated, — take  your  time,  and  be  deliberate. 
Nay  !  with  the  Rail  you  can  afford  to  be  slow,  for  he  shall  rise 
within  ten  feet  of  you,  ninety-nine  times  ot  a  hundred,  and  you 
shall  miss  him  only  by  getting  flurried,  or  by  tumbling  over- 
board. 

For  the  rest,  though  it  really  scarce  desen'cs  to  be  rated  as  a 
sport,  or  honored  with  a  place  among  the  nobler  kinds  of  wood- 
craft. Rail  shooting  is  s  pretty  pastime  enough  ;  and  whe).  birds 
are  abundant,  and  rise  well,  the  rapid  succession  of  shots,  and 
the  necessary  rapidity  of  motion,  creates  an  excitement,  to  which 
is  often  added  the  emulation  of  surjDassing  rival  boats  and  gun- 
ners,— to  which  may  again  be  superadded  the  stimulating  ap- 
prehension of  being  peppered  soundly  by  a  stray  charge  of 
mustard-seed,  together  with  llio  agreeable  variations  of  vitupe- 
ration and  rt'crirainatioii,  to  which  the  said  peppering  may  he 
expected  to  give  rise. 


iiJ 


..( » 


i 


I '-;  •' 


Mill 

■  n 

!i'M 


298 


FltANK    FORESTEll's   FIELD   SPORTS. 


•   i 


m 


The  Rail  is,  as  I  observed  before,  capital  eating.  He  is  to  be 
cooked  and  served  exactly  as  the  Snij  e,  with  no  sauce  or  condi- 
ment whatever,  but  his  own  gravy  caught  upon  a  slice  of  crisp 
buttered  toast,  and  a  sjirinkle  of  salt.  Like  all  water-birds,  he 
is  to  be  eaten  fresh,  the  sooner  after  killing  the  better  !  Twenty- 
four  hours  dead,  he  is  not  only  ancient,  but  fish-like.  Red  wine 
is  the  liquor  wherein  he  should  bo  laid  at  rest  within  the  inner 
man,  as  unquiet  ghosts  in  a  red  sea !  Peace  to  him  !  He  shall 
sit  lightly  on  your  stomach,  oven  if  partaken  at  a  rcre  supper. 

A  few  words,  hereafter,  concerning  wild-fowl  shooting  in 
upland  brooks,  or  stalking  them  on  inland  lakes,  or  pools,  and 
I  have  finished  my  task,  in  so  much  as  relates  to  Upland  shooting. 


r; 


\:t 


UPLAND   SHOOTING. 


209 


I! 


"OUCK  SHOOTING,  ON  INLAND   WATERS. 


1^    ■: 

1  ; : 

i    m 


N  the  Eastern  anil  Midland 
States,  unless  on  tlie  borders  of 
tlio  frrcat  lakes,  this  sport  of  late 
years  can  hardly  be  said  to  exist 
at  iill.  Tlio  birds  are  becoming; 
rai'e  and  wild,  and,  although  still 
shot  in  suflicicnt  numbers  by  the 
local  gunners,  on  the  streams  of 
N'('\v-.Ters(\v,  to  8up]ily  ttie  dciiinnd  of  the  markets,  they  are  not 
found  numerous  enough  to  justify  tlio  pursuit  of  the  sportsman. 
Foi-merly  on  the  drowned  lands  of  Orange  county,  on  the 
meadows  of  Chatham  and  Pine  Brook,  on  the  Passaic  and  its 
tributaries,  bc^fore  tlio  mndcrn  system  of  drajning  and  embank 
ing,  hundreds,  nay  !  thousands  of  acres  were  annually  covered 
with  shallow  wat(!r,  at  the  breaking  Tip  of  winter,  and  the  intin 
(1  ited  lilts  were  literally  blackened  witli  all  the  varieties  of 
Duck  which  I  liavo  heretofore  enumcrafed,  affording  rare  sport 
to  the  guimer,  and  alluring  gentlemen  from  the  larger  cities  to 
follow  them  with  th<>  crnioc  ;  in  a  day's  paddling  of  which,  among 
the  inundated  groves,  and  over  the  floated  meadows,  it  was  no 
unusual  event,  nor  regarded  in  any  wise  as  extraordinary  good 
fortune,  to  Icill  a  hundred  fowl  and  upward  of  the  different  va- 
rieties, all  of  which,  however,  are  alike  in  one  respect,  that  they 
are  all  delicious  eating.  I  h.ave  myself  been  in  the  habit  of  con- 
sidering the  Summer  Duck  as  the  most  dehcate  and  succulent 


{  i 


noo 


FRANK    forester's    FIELD    SPORTS. 


food  of  tlio  inland,  as  distinguished  from  the  ocean  Ducks;  but 
tliis  is,  I  ht'lievc,  owing  greatly,  if  not  entirely,  to  its  being  the 
best  fed  of  its  genus  in  the  regions  wherein  I  have  been  wont 
to  cat  it ;  for  I  understand  tliat  on  the  great  lakes,  and  in  the 
Western  country  generally,  the  Blue-winged  Teal  is  regarded 
as  its  superior  in  epicurean  (jualifications. 

All  that  kind  of  shooting  is  now  at  an  end  in  this  district  of 
country  ;  and  althouufh  they  still  abound  on  the  great  lakes, 
along  the  Canada  frontier,  and  eastward  in  the  British  pro- 
vinces, the  vast  extent  of  those  inland  seas  which  they  there  fre- 
quent, renders  it  impossible,  or  at  least  so  difficult  as  to  become 
irksome,  to  take  them,  except  by  lying  at  ambush  on  points  over 
which  thoy  fly,  and  on  the  woody  margins  of  the  forest  streams 
and  inlets,  which  they  frequent  for  the  purpose  of  feeding  and 
roosting.  In  such  localities,  where  streams,  debouching  into 
the  great  lakes,  flow  through  submerged  and  swampy  wood- 
lands, the  Ducks  of  all  kinds  are  wont  to  fly  regularly  land- 
ward, in  large  plumps,  or  small  scattered  parties,  for  an  hour  or 
two  preceding  sundown, — and  a  good  shot  well  concealed  in 
such  a  place,  with  a  good  double-gun,  loaded  with  No.  4  up  to 
BB,  as  may  be  the  nature  of  his  ground,  and  the  species  of  his 
game,  will  frequently  ictum  from  a  single  evening's  expedition, 
loaded  with  twenty  or  thirty  couple  of  wild-fowl. 

For  this  sport,  however,  little  or  no  advice  is  needed, — a  good 
covert,  a  heavy  gun,  and  a  sufficient  charge,  are  all  that  can  be 
deemed  requisite  to  success.  The  sport  may,  however,  be  ren- 
dered both  more  rapid  and  more  exciting,  by  the  introduction 
of  the  large  Water  Spaniel,  well  broken  to  fetch,  to  aid  as  a 
retriever.  Every  true  sportsman  knows  hc.v  much  zest  and 
enjoyment  is  added  to  every  kind  of  field  sports,  by  the  adapta- 
tion to  it,  and  the  obsen'ation  during  its  continuance,  of  the 
instinct  and  sagacity  of  trained  animals ;  and  that  of  the  water 
retriever  is  inferior  to  none.  lie  must  be  trained  to  absolute 
muteness,  and  the  most  implicit  obedience  ;  he  must  never  stir 
from  the  spot  in  which  he  is  ordered  by  a  quiet  gesture  of  his 
master's  hand  to  crouch-close — nay  i  he  must  not  prick  his  ear, 


-a  good 
can  lie 
36  ren- 

xluctioTi 


r,est  and 
adapta- 

of  the 
e  water 
absolute 
ever  stir 
le  of  Ilia 

his  ear. 


UPLAND    SHOOTING.  o!   I 

or  wag  his  tail,  lost  the  quick  eye  of  the  watcliful  Duck,  or  their 
almost  inialUble  sense  of  liearing,  dftoct  eitlier  by  sound  or 
sight  tlio  impatient  movement.  Once  ordered  to  recover  '.lie 
(lead,  or,  what  is  worse,  the  crippk's,  neither  the  cold  of 
the  freezing  lake,  nor  the  rough  billows  of  the  stormy  frith, 
must  deter  him.  In  his  perfection  he  is,  and  needs  must  be,  the 
most  intelligent,  and  so  far  as  endurance  goes,  the  bravest  of 
dogs  ;  and  so  far  as  the  fowler's  particular  sport  unquestionably 
lacks  that  variety  and  excitement,  both  of  incident  and  pursuit, 
which  gives  the  great  cliarm  to  every  kind  of  shooting  or  hunt- 
ing, it  will  certainly  be  well  to  add  to  it  the  increased  pleasure 
afforded  by  the  use  of  the  retriever. 

I  used  to  suppose  that  the  best  species  of  dog  for  the  Upland 
retriever,  is  the  large  Water  Spaniel,  as,  undoubtedly,  for  sea- 
fowl  shooting  the  small,  sharpish-eared,  St.  John's  Newfound- 
land dog  is  preferable  to  all  other  races.  In  a  work  which  has 
liitely  come  before  me,  however,  of  which  I  think  very  highly, 
I  find  the  following  observations,  the  correctness  of  which  I  be- 
lieve to  be  indisputable  ;  and  I  little  doubt  that  the  sort  of  dog 
here  described,  would  be  of  general  utility  to  the  sportsman. 
The  book  to  which  I  allude  is  "  The  Moor  and  the  Loch,"  by 
Colquhoun,  of  Luss,  who,  in  the  sphere  of  wild  sports,  to  which 
he  has  paid  attention,  is  not,  I  think,  infcricn"  to  Col.  Hawker, 
when  mounted  on  his  hobby  of  British  sea-fowling. 

From  this  book,  while  on  ciie  present  topic,  I  shall  again 
quote ;  and,  without  farther  apology  or  explanation,  proceed  to 
extract  his  vie.vs  as  to  the  dog  most  fitting  as  the  Duck-shooter's 
assistant. 

"  Next  in  importance  to  the  gun,"  says  Mr.  Colquhoun,  "  is 
a  proper  retriever.  The  NewfouTidland  is  not  quite  the  thing  : 
first,  his  black  color  is  against  him" — white,  of  couise,  is  out  of 
the  question — "  brown  is  much  to  be  preferred ;  then,  I  should 
wish  my  dog  occasionally  to  assist  me  in  this  inland  shooting, 
by  beating  rushes,  or  thick  cover,  up  creeks,  where  you  may 
often  plant  yourself  in  an  open  situation  for  a  shot,  and  your  dog 
put  up  the  fowl,  which  are  almost  certain  to  fly  down  past  you. 


I   I- 


303  FKANK    FOnESTER  S    FIELB    SPOUTS. 

If  you  arcustomed  a  Newfonmllancl  clog  to  tliia,  liomiglit,  from 
his  strcTigtIi  and  vivacity,  learn  tin-  trick  of  breaking  away  when 
you  (lid  not  wish  him.  The  best  and  most  efficient  kind  of 
dog  for  this  work,  is  a  cross  between  a  water-dog  and  largo 
terrier;  the  terrier  gives  him  nose,  the  wafer  dog  coohiess  and 
steadiness.  I  shoidd  say,  that  before  you  can  procure  one 
whicli,  upon  trial,  may  prove  worth  the  great  trouble  of  tho- 
roughly training,  you  may  have  to  destroy  half-a-dozen.  You 
should  begin  your  training  when  the  dog  is  rcnj  ymivg,  and  if 
you  find  out  he  is  not  turning  out  as  you  wish,  seal  his  fate  at 
once.  The  dog  you  want  must  be  as  mute  as  a  badger,  and 
cunning  as  a  fox.  He  must  be  of  a  most  docile  and  biddable 
disposition — the  generality  of  this  breed  are  so.  They  aie  also 
slow  and  heavy  in  their  movements,  and  phlegmatic  in  their 
temper — great  requisites;  but  when  fowl  arc  to  be  secured, 
you  will  find  no  want  either  of  ^  nil  or  activity,  on  land  or  water." 
Our  Highland  sportsman  then  proceeds,  in  allusion  to  the  sub- 
ject of  a  wood-cut  illustrating  his  work,  which  he  states  to  be 
the  best  he  ever  saw,  "  lie  nc-vcr  gives  a  whimper,  if  ever  so 
keen,  and  obeys  every  signal  I  make  with  my  hand.  He  will 
watch  my  motions  at  a  distance,  when  crawling  after  wild-fowl, 
ready  to  rush  forward  the  moment  I  have  fired  ;  and  never  in 
one  instance  has  he  spoiled  my  shot.  I  may  mention  a  proof 
of  his  sagacity.  Having  a  coujde  of  long  shots  across  a  pretty 
broad  stream,  I  stopped  a  INIallard  with  each  barrel,  but  both 
were  only  wounded.  I  sent  him  across  for  the  birds  ;  he  at- 
tempted at  first  to  bring  them  both,  but  one  always  struggled 
out  of  his  mouth;  he  then  laid  down  one,  intending  to  bring  the 
other;  but  whenever  he  attempted  to  cross  to  me,  the  bird  left 
fluttered  into  the  water ;  he  immediately  returned  again,  laid 
down  the  first  on  the  shore,  and  recovered  the  other;  the  first 
now  fluttered  away,  but  he  instantly  secured  it,  and  standing 
over  them  both,  seemed  to  cogitate  for  a  moment ;  then,  although 
on  any  other  occasion  he  never  rufHcs  a  feather, he  deliberately 
killed  one,  brought  over  the  other,  and  then  returned  for  tlie 
dead  bird." 


UPLAND   SHOOTINa. 


303 


,  from 
wlien 

incl  of 

I  Inrgc 

389  and 

re   one 

of  tho- 

I.    You 

,  and  if 

s  fnto  at 

rrcv,  and 

liddnMu 

jirc  also 

in  tlu'ir 

secured, 

r  water." 

)  tlic  sid)- 

tcs  to  be 
ever  so 
He  will 

vild-fowl, 
never  in 
a  proof 
a  pretty 
but  both 
|s  ;  be  at- 
strugsled 
\)rinn;  the 
[;  bird  left 
gain,  laid 
1;  the  first 
standing 
I,  altliough 
[liberately 
hI  for  the 


After  proceeding  to  give  some  furtluM-  information  with  re- 
spect to  accoutrcinrnts,  among  others  of  which  he  expatiates  on 
the  absolute  necessity  of  a  small  pocket  telescope  as  part  of  the 
wild-towl  sliooter's  ('(piipage,  he  gives  an  account  in  crtcnso 
of  the  best  method  to  be  adopted  for  getting  within  shot  of  wild- 
fowl, when  seen  feeding  on,  or  within  shot,  of  the  shores  of  an 
inland  loch  or  pond.  These,  as  they  are  of  tlu^  utmost  value 
and  interest  in  themselves,  as  there  are  thousands  f)f  localities 
exactly  such  as  he  dcscnbes,  in  every  region  of  the  United 
States,  from  the  rock-girdled,  pine-embosomed  lakelets  of  INIaino 
and  the  Eastern  States,  to  the  limestone  pools  of  the  Pennsylva 
man  AUeghanies,  to  the  limpid  basins  set  in  the  oak  openings 
of  Michigan  and  Illinois,  to  the  gleaming  waters  that  lie  unshel- 
tered from  the  sun's  brightest  beams  in  the  centre  of  boundless 
prairies,  all  of  which,  in  their  proper  seasons  are  absolutely 
alive  with  wild-fowl  of  cveiy  description,  and  as  to  all  of  tliese, 
my  author's  views  are  distinctly  and  directly  a])plicable — I  shall 
extract  without  alteration  or  abridgment ;  oliserving  only,  in 
addition  to  what  I  have  already  stated,  that  tlie  species  of  fowl 
to  which  he  has  reference,  are  nearly  in  all  respects  identical 
with  our  own. 

"  Having  now  equipped  our  wild-fowl  shooter,  we  will,"  he 
says,  "  again  bring  him  to  the  shore.  His  first  object  should  be 
to  see  his  game  without  being  seen  himself,  even  if  they  are  at 
too  great  a  distance  to  show  signs  of  alarm.  To  effect  this  he 
must  creep  cautiously  forward  to  the  first  point  that  will  com- 
mand a  view  of  the  shore  for  some  distance  ;  then,  taking  out 
his  glass,  he  must  reconnoitre  it  by  inches,  noticing  every  tuft 
of  grass  or  stone,  to  which  wild-fowl  asleep  often  bear  so  close 
a  resemblance  that,  except  to  a  very  (piick  eye,  assisted  by  a 
glass,  the  difference  is  not  perceptible.  If  the  loch  be  well 
frequented,  he  will  most  likely  first  discover  a  flock  of  divers, 
but  must  not  be  in  a  hurry  to  pocket  his  glass,  until  he  has 
thoroughly  inspected  the  shore,  in  ca.sc  some  more  desirable 
fowl  may  be  feeding  or  asleep  upon  it.  I  will  stippose  that  he 
sees  some  objects  that  may  be  wild-fowL  Let  him  then  imme- 
VOL.  1.  22 


\i\ 

1 

■*! 

•■   f    1 

iT' 

•\  ,' 

I 

V 

ij 

\ 

t^l 

t 

1 

is; ' '  ii 


no4 


FRANK   FOIiF.STKIt  S    FIEI.T)    SI OHTS, 


!j| 


I*  i 


ilinfcly  rliircf  liis  glnss  to  the  very  marp;in  of  flio  locli,  to  src  if 
aiiytliiiiij;  is  movinir  tliero  ;  kIiouIcI  lie  fnid  it  so,  lie  mny  conclude 
tliiif  ii  is  u  flock  of  cillicr  Ducks,*  Widgi'oii.t  or  Tcnl ;  tlioso 
first  pficcivetl  rcHtiiiuf  on  tlie  shore,  and  tlic  others  feeding  ;it 
tlio  water's  edge,  of  course  not  nearly  so  conspicuous.!  If  there 
is  no  motion  at  the  margin  of  the  loch,  he  must  keep  his  glass 
fixed,  and  narrowly  watch  for  some  time,  when,  if  what  arrest- 
ed his  attention  he  wild-fowl  asleep,  they  will,  in  all  prohahility, 
betray  themselves  by  raising  a  head  or  fla])ping  a  wing. 

''  He  must  now  take  one  or  two  large  marks,  that  he  will  be 
sure  to  know  again;  and  also  another,  about  two  or  three  hun- 
dred yards,  immediately  above,  farther  inland.  Having  done 
this,  let  liim  take  a  very  wide  circle  and  come  round  upon  liis 
inland  mark.  He  must  now  walk  as  if  treading  upon  glass  : 
the  least  rustle  of  a  bough,  or  crack  of  a  ]iiece  of  rf)lten  wood 
under  his  feet,  may  spoil  all,  especially  if  the  weather  be  calm. 
Having  got  to  about  one  hundred  yards  from  where  he  su]i])o- 
8CS  the  birds  to  be,  he  will  tell  his  retriever  to  lie  down  ;  the 
dog,  if  well  trained,  will  at  once  do  so,  and  rover  move.  His 
master  will  then  crawl  forward,  until  he  get-  the  advantage  of  a 
bush  or  tuft  of  reeds,  and  then  raise  his  head  by  inches  to  look 
through  it  for  iiis  other  marks.  Having  seen  them,  he  has  got 
an  idea  where  tiie  birds  are,  and  will,  with  the  utmost  caution, 

*  When  the  wore'.  '■  Duck"  is  used  in  English  works  without  qnulificatinn,  the 
Mallard  and  Duck  known,  in  this  country  generally,  as  the  "  Green-lieud,"  are 
intended. 

tTlie  English  Widgeon  differs  essentially  from  the  American  bird,  but  like 
It,  is  rather  a  shore  bird  than  an  inland  fowl,  though  it  is  often  shot  up  thti 
country. 

}  "  Duck-shooting  on  rivers  and  streams  is  generally  unsatisfactory,  there  are 
BO  many  turnings  and  windings  which  prevent  you  from  seeing  the  fowl  until 
they  are  close  at  liand,  also  so  many  tiny  bays  and  creeks,  where  they  conceal 
themselves  beyond  the  possibility  of  deicction,  until  the  whirr  of  their  wings  and 
the  croak  of  the  Mallurd  betray  their  hiding-place.  Unless  the  river  be  large 
and  broad,  even  the  most  expert  wild-fowl  shooter  must  expect  few  heavy 
sitting  shots,  and  content  himself  with  the  greater  number  being  distant  flying 
ones." 


to  sec  if 
conclude 
il ;  tliosc 

"cdiiiff  iit 
It'tlicro 
his  gliiss 
int  nrvcst- 
•obiiliility, 

ho  will  be 
tliree  Imu- 
vincf  <l(me 
1  upon  liis 
ion  glass  : 
)ttcn  wood 
ir  be  ralni. 

be  sup]>o- 
down  ;  the 
tnovo.  His 
antage  of  a 
•bcs  to  look 

he  bna  got 
est  caution, 

ilificiitinn,  the 
een-heud,"  are 

bird,  but  like 
(Ml  shot  up  tho 

tory,  there  nre 
the  fowl  until 

:e  they  concea! 
heir  wings  uud 
river  be  large 
>ct  few  heavy 
g  distant  flying 


rpr.ANTI    SltOOTIVf!. 


r^o') 


endeavor  to  rnUh  si'rbt  f>f  them.  T  will  suppose  liim  fortuniitc 
enouirii  to  do  so,  mid  tluit  llicy  .'iro  pcifccfly  iiiicoiiscious  of  liis 
n^'iir  approacli.  Ho  must  lowi-r  liis  liead  in  tlio  same  ciiutioiis 
munnor,  and  look  for  some,  refuge  at  a  fair  distance  from  the 
birds,  through  wliich  he  may  firo  the  deadly  silling  shot,  Ai'tcr 
crawling  serpent-Iiko  to  fliis,  he  will  again  raise  his  head  by 
liair-breadtlis,  and  peeping  throucrh  flie  bush  or  tiifV,  select  the 
greatest  numlxT  nf  birds  in  line;  then  <h'awing  back  a  little,  in 
order  that  his  gun  may  be  just  dear  of  the  bush  for  the  second 
barrel,  after  having  fired  the  first  through  it,  will  take  sure  aim 
at  his  selected  victims.  Should  he  unfoitunafely  nrrt  find  an 
opening  to  fire  through,  the  only  other  altrrnalive  is  by  almost 
impcn'ceptiltle  degrees  to  raise  his  gun  to  the  rigiit  of  the  bush, 
and  close  to  it ;  but  in  doing  this  the  birds  are  much  more  likely 
to  see  him  and  take  wing.  Never  fire  orrr  the  bush,  as  you 
are  almost  certain  to  bo  peii'eived  whenever  you  riise  your 
head  ;  more  good  shots  are  lost  to  an  experienced  hand  \>y  a 
rapid  jerk,  not  keeping  a  sufficient  watch  for  stragglers,  and 
over-anxiety  to  fire,  than  by  any  other  way.  Having  succeeded 
in  getting  tho  sitting  shot,  'he  fowl,  especially  if  they  have  not 
seen  from  whence  it  comes,  will  rise  ])C'pcndicularly  in  the  air, 
and  you  are  not  unlikely  to  have  a  chance  of  knocking  down  a 
couple  more  with  your  second  barrel ;  but  if  they  rise  wide, 
you  must  select  the  finest  old  Mallard  among  them,  or  whatever 
suits  your  fancy.  Directly  upon  hearing  the  report,  your 
retritjver  will  rush  to  your  assistance,  :iiiil  having  secured  your 
cripples,  you  will  re-load,  anil  taking  out  your  glass,  reconnoitre 
again  ;  for  though  Ducks,  Widgeon,  &c.,  would  fly  out  upon 
the  loch  at  the  report  of  your  gun,  yet  the  diver  tribe,*  if  there 
are  only  one  or  two  together,  are  perhaps  more  likely  to  be 
under  water  than  above  when  you  fire ;  but  more  of  them 
anon. 

•  The  divers  most  common  to  us  are  the  BufTel-headed  Duck,  or  Butter- 
Ball  ;  aijd  the  two  varieties  of  Mcrjriinser,  more  commonly  known  as  Shel- 
drakes— to  which  fowl,  it  does  not,  in  trutii,  offer  even  a  remote  resemblance. 
The  true  Sheldrake  Anns  Tadorna,  beiiiij  a  perfect  Duck,  and  not  a  diver. 


I  I 


i  1 

' 

11 

f*   ' 

P   , 

!H 

''\ 

^i 

il  I  i 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-S) 


1.0 


1.1 


I 


^^    12.5 


Its 

u 


lAO 


|Z2 

12.0 


L25  III  1.4 


I 


1.6 


Sdmces 
Corporation 


23  WIST  MAIN  STRUT 

WnSTM.N.Y.  MStO 

(71«)t72-4S03 


306 


FRANK    forester's    FIELD    SPORTS. 


"  Another  invariable  rule  in  crawling  upon  Ducks  is  always, 
if  possible,  to  get  to  the  leeward  of  them  ;*  for  although  I  am 
firmly  of  opinion  that  they  do  not  wind  you  like  deer,  as  some 
suppose,  yet  their  hearing  is  most  acute.  I  have  seen  instances 
of  this  that  I  could  hardly  otherwise  have  credited.  One  day  I 
got  within  about  sixty  yards  of  three  Ducks  asleep  upon  the 
shore ;  the  wind  was  blowing  very  strong,  direct  frf)m  me  to 
them,  a  thick  hedge  forming  my  ambuscade.  The  ground  was 
quite  bare  beyond  this  hedge,  so  I  was  obliged  to  take  the  dis- 
tant shot  through  it :  in  making  the  attempt,  I  rustled  one  of 
the  twigs — up  went  three  heads  to  the  full  stretch,  but  when  I 
had  remained  quiet  for  about  five  minutes,  they  again  placed 
their  bills  under  their  wings  ;  upon  a  second  trial,  the  slight 
noise  was  unfortunately  repeated  :  again  the  birds  raised  their 
heads  ;  but  this  time  they  were  much  longer  upon  the  stretch, 
and  seemed  more  uneasy.  Nothing  now  remained  but  to  try 
again ;  my  utmost  caution,  however,  was  unavailing,  the  birds 
rose  like  rockets.  I  never  hesitate  concealing  myself  to  wind- 
ward of  the  spot,  where  I  expect  Ducks  to  pitch,  feeling  confi- 
dent that,  unless  I  move,  they  will  not  find  me  out.  I  have 
often  had  them  swimming  within  twenty -five  yards  of  me,  when 


*  "  If  you  have  also  a  bright  sun  at  your  back,  and  in  their  eyes,  your  advan- 
tage is  great ;  but  should  the  sun  and  wind  favor  opposite  directions,  let  the 
nature  of  the  ground  decide  your  advance. 

"  I  was  last  winter  shooting  wild-fowl  with  a  gamekeeper  who  firmly  held  the 
common  notion  of  their  keen  noses.  We  saw  a  flock  of  about  twenty  pitched 
upon  a  long  point,  and  no  possibility  of  approaching  them  except  directly  to 
windward.  "  Now,  sir,"  says  the  keeper,  "  if  you'll  stalk  these  Ducks  so  as  to 
get  a  good  shot,  I'll  never  care  for  their  noses  again  I"  They  had  the  full 
benefit  of  the  wind  as  it  blew  pretty  strong,  but  there  was  some  soft  snow  on 
the  ground,  which  I  knew  would  prevent  their  hearing ;  so  I  took  him  at  his 
word,  killed  three  with  my  first  barrel,  and  had  they  not  been  intercepted  by 
the  trees  and  bushes,  would  have  knocked  down  at  least  one  more  with  my 
second.  The  keeper  has  said  ever  since  that  their  noses  are  not  worth  a  straw : 
my  decided  advice,  however,  is  not  to  stalk  wild-fowl  to  windward,  if  it  can  be 
avoided ;  for  should  the  snow  be  at  all  crisp  with  frost,  or  if  there  are  many 
twigs  and  bushes  to  crawl  through,  their  noses  become  acute  enough !  1 1" 


UPLAND    SHOOTING. 


307 


I  H 


I  was  waiting  for  three  or  four  in  line,  the  wind  blowing  direct 
from  me  to  them,  without  perceiving  by  any  signs  their  con- 
sciousness of  an  enemy's  vicinity.* 

"  When  the  weather  is  very  hard,  and  Ducks  are  driven  to 
the  springy  drains,  a  simple  way  of  getting  fair  shots,  but  seldom 
practised,  is,  to  make  your  man  keep  close  to  the  drain,  and 
take  your  own  place  fifteen  yards  from  it,  and  about  forty  in 
advance  of  him.  The  Ducks  will  then  rise  nearly  opposite  to 
you.  To  walk  along  the  drain  is  not  a  very  good  plan,  as  they 
will  generally  rise  either  out  of  distance  or  very  long  shots : 
and,  if  you  keep  a  little  way  off,  they  mtiy  not  rise  at  alLt 
When  the  loch  is  low,  the  sportsman  may  often  get  a  capital 
shot  at  Ducks,  the  first  warm  sunny  days  in  March,|  as  they 
collect  on  the  grassy  places  at  the  margin  to  feed  upon  the 
insects  brought  into  life  by  the  genial  heat. 

"  But  to  return  to  our  wild -fowl  shooter,  whom  we  left  glass 
in  hand  looking  out  for  divers.  He  sees  a  couple  plying  their 
vocation  fifteen  or  twenty  yards  from  the  shore,  about  half  a 
quarter  of  a  mile  from  where  he  stands.     He  selects  his  vantage 

*  "  Perhaps  the  sportsman  may  ask  what  it  signifies  whether  wild-fowl  are 
aware  of  your  approach  by  hearing  or  winding?  My  answer  is,  that  although 
it  is  of  little  consequence  when  crawling  upon  Ducks,  yet  when  lying  concealed, 
expecting  them  to  pitch,  it  is  a  considerable  advantage  to  know  that  you  will 
not  be  detected  by  their  sense  of  smell ;  otherwise  the  best  refuge  for  a  shot 
must  often  be  abandoned  for  a  much  worse." 

t  Tills  plan  will  be  found  to  answer  admirably  in  this  country,  not  when  the 
weather  is  very  hard,  at  which  times  the  drains  and  small  streams  are  frozen 
hard,  but  at  all  seasons  when  wild-fowl  of  any  kind  are  marked  down  into  any 
brook,  stream  or  water-course  whatever.  If  the  stream  be  very  tortuous,  the 
shooter  should  walk  parallel  to  it,  just  far  enough  distant  not  to  strike  any  of  its 
courses,  but  keeping  as  nearly  as  possible  a  perfectly  direct  course.  The  beater 
should  follow  every  curve  accurately.  I  have  have  had  sport  thus  with  Wood- 
duck,  in  many  districts  of  the  United  States  ;  and  once — the  best  day's  inland 
fowl-shooting,  I  ever  had — killed  sixteen  young  birds,  and  two  fine  Drakes  in  a 
single  morning. 

t  For  March  we  must  substitute,  as  regards  American  shooting,  the  corres- 
ponding season,  according  to  the  latitude.  The  period  he  means  is  the  first 
breaking  up  of  winter,  and  the  commencement  of  mild  weather. 


ml 


l  ( 


m 


,     'Ml 


>      ■ 


308 


FRANK    FORESTER  8    FIELD    SPORTS. 


.1    i 


ground  as  near  as  possible,  for  a  last  look  before  commencing 
his  attack.  Having  gained  this,  he  makes  his  dog  lie  down,  and 
peejjs  cautiously  until  he  sees  the  birds — waits  till  they  both 
dive  together,  then  rushing  forward  whilst  they  are  under 
water,  again  conceals  himself,  expecting  their  re-appcaraiice. 
The  great  difficulty  is  always  to  keep  in  view  the  exact  spot 
where  the  birds  come  up  :  once  lose  sight  of  it,  your  progress 
is  stopped,  and,  in  recovering  your  advantage,  the  birds  are 
almost  certain  to  see  you  and  fly.  When  within  one  race  of 
the  divers,  cock  both  barrels,  and  as  soon  as  they  together  disap- 
pear, rush  to  the  nearest  point  on  the  shore  for  a  shot.  If  the 
day  be  calm,  the  rising  bubbles  will  show  where  they  are;  you 
can  then  clap  your  gun  to  your  shoulder,  ready  to  fire.  Always 
in  such  cases,  shoot  on  wing,  and  be  sure  to  fire  well  forward : 
should  a  diver  only  be  winged,  it  is  useless  to  tire  youi  re- 
triever in  pursuit ;  but  if  he  is  at  all  stnick  about  the  legs  also, 
a  good  dog  should  be  able  to  secure  him. 

"  So  much  for  the  small  Morillon.*  The  Golden-eyet  is  a  still 
more  artful  bird,  and  recjuiies  more  caution.  If,  without  seeing 
an  enemy,  he  is  at  all  alarmed  while  diving  near  the  shore,  he 
will  probably  swim  out  to  a  considerable  distance ;  reconnoi- 
tering  all  the  time,  and  making  a  noise  something  like  a  single 
note  of  the  hurdy-gurdy.  You  may  perhaps  expect  his  return, 
and  wait  for  him;  but  although  he  may  remain  about  the  same 
place,  making  these  calls,  and  apparently  careless,  he  is  all  the 
time  very  suspicious ;  and  I  oidy  once  or  twice,  in  my  whole 
experience,  knew  him  to  return  to  the  spot  where  he  was  first 
discovered.  Should  he  get  sight  of  you,  there  is  no  hope,  even 
if  he  does  not  take  wing,  which  he  most  likely  will.  The  little 
Morillon  may  retuiTi  if  you  think  him  worth  waiting  for;  but 
l>e  is  so  hard  and  coarse  on  the  table,  that  it  would  be  paying 
him  too  great  a  compliment.  The  Golden-eye,  on  the  contrary, 
is  a  great  delicacy — a  sufficient  proof,  I  think,  were  there  no 

«  The  small  Morillon  is  a  bird  very  closely  resembling  our  Buffei-headof] 
Duck,  though  not  identical  with  it. 
1  1  he  Gulden-eye  of  England  is  the  same  as  our  own.    Anas  Clangula, 


W        I 


nencing 
)wn,  and 
ley  both 
e  under 
)carance. 
Lact  spot 

progress 
birds  aro 
e  race  of 
her  disap- 
t.     If  the 

are;  you 
Always 

forward : 
s  youi  re- 
3  legs  also, 

^et  is  a  still 
lout  seeing 
;  shore,  he 

reconnoi- 
ke  a  single 

lis  return, 
It  the  same 
le  is  all  the 

my  whole 
le  was  first 

hope,  even 
The  little 
iig  for;  but 
be  paying 

he  contrary, 

ire  there  no 

Buffel-hcadwl 
Clangula. 


UPLAND   SHOOTING. 


309 


other,  that  Morillons  are  not  young  Golden-eyes,  as  many  sup- 
pose. This  supposition,  I  hare  little  doubt,  aiiscs  fnmi  tlie 
color  of  the  female  Golden-eye  being  pretty  much  like  that  of 
the  Morillon.  The  shape,  however,  is  different,  and  the  si/.e  of 
the  female  Golden-cyo  nearly  ecpial  to  that  of  the  male.  I  have 
shot  them,  right  and  left  when  diving  together,  the  female  being 
the  most  wary  of  the  two.  The  Morillon  may  be  in  the  same 
flock,  as  different  kinds  of  divers  often  are  ;  but  there  is  not 
half  the  caution  required  to  get  a  shot  at  him,  and,  when  com- 
pared, he  is  much  rounder  in  shape  and  one-third  smaller  in 
size.  It  may  be  said,  '  and  wliy  should  not  this  be  the  young 
of  tlie  same  species  V  I  answer,  '  that  the  young  males  of  all 
the  Duck  tribe  that  breed  in  ;his  country,  from  the  Mallard  to 
the  Teal,  gain  their  bright  feathers  the  first  moulting,  after 
which  the  young  males  are  at  least  ecjual  in  size  to  the  females; 
but  my  chif^  reason  I  have  already  given,  if  the  Morillon  is  the 
young  bird,  why  should  he  reverse  the  usual  order  of  things, 
and  be  less  tender  and  delicate  than  his  parents?' 

"  When  several  are  diving  together,  you  must  get  as  near  as 
possible  without  alarming  them  ;  and,  selecting  a  coujjle  who 
dive  at  the  same  moment,  hoot  away  the  others,  who  will  be 
far  out  of  reach  before  their  companions  come  up.  They  will 
pi'obably  never  miss  them  until  they  have  taken  two  or  three 
dives,  thus  giving  you  an  opjjortunity  of  getting  the  shot;  of 
which  you  would  have  had  a  much  worse  chance  while  they 
wei'e  together. 

"  In  recommending  this,  be  it  observed,  I  am  supposing  the 
ground  of  difficult  access  ;  when  favorable,  even  a  novice  should 
be  able  to  get  within  a  run  of  any  number  of  fowl,  without 
being  seen  by  the  most  wary  of  the  flock,  aiwl  can  then  make 
his  selection.  For  my  own  part,  I  hardly  ever  adopt  this  plan, 
but  where  the  ground  is  bare  and  open,  an  unpractised  wild- 
fowl shooter  would  stand  no  chance  otherwise. 

"  When  the  flock  is  large,  it  always  puzzles  a  beginner  to 
ascertain  the  length  of  time  they  are  under  water,  in  order  to 
know  what  time  he  may  sa/cli/  allow  for  his  last  run,  wliich  in 


t  v; 

\  .-i 


*  1 


(i;  l< 


h  I 


If'i 


810 


FRANK   FOKESTEr's   FIELD   SPORTS. 


6uch  a  case  must  generally  be  a  long  one.  The  fowl  are  conti- 
nually coming  up  and  disappearing  again,  which  confuses  him, 
and  unless  he  knows  the  depth  of  the  water,  the  only  way  to  find 
out  how  long  tliey  are  under,  is  to  watch  the  most  marked  or 
detached  of  the  flock,  and  then  clioose  his  devoted  pair.  Jf  the 
water  is  very  shallow,  those  below  are  sure  to  perceive  the  flurry 
made  by  their  friends  at  the  top,  as  soon  as  you  commence 
your  last  run,  and  instantly  join  them  in  their  retreat.  In  such 
cases  it  is  always  best  to  try  for  a  distant  sitting  shot,  from  the 
nearest  refuge  you  cnn  safely  reach,  among  as  many  as  you  can 
get  in  line.  But  by  attempting  this,  there  is  always  a  risk  of 
loBinjj  the  chance  altogether,  and  it  should  never  be  resorted  to 
except  under  such  circumstances,  or  with  Dun-birds,*  who  keep 
more  close  together,  and  thus  present  a  better  opportunity  for 
a  heavy  sitting  shot  tlian  any  other  divers. 

"  Of  all  wild-fowl,  a  flock  of  Dun-birds  is  the  most  agreea- 
ble to  the  sportsman's  eye.  They  are  the  most  stupidt  of  all 
the  diver  race.  I  have  even  seen  them,  after  having  been 
driven  from  their  feeding  ground,  rctuni  in  the  face  of  the 
shooter,  who  had  only  lain  down  without  any  covering  or  con- 
cealment whatever ;  they  have  begun  diving  again  within  thirty 
yards,  and  of  course  given  him  a  capital  shot.  I  never  wish  for 
assistance  in  manoeuvring  any  other  kind  of  water-fowl,  but 
these  may  be  herded  like  sheep ;  and,  if  feeding  on  one  side  of 

•  The  Dun-bird,  or  Pochard  of  England,  is  the  same  as  our  Red-head,  Fuli- 
gula  Ferina,  which  is  with  us  a  sea  Duck,  only  frequenting  the  bays  and 
estuaries  of  large  rivers  ;  although,  like  the  Canvans-back,  it  is  found  westward 
far  inland,  on  the  upper  waters  of  iiic  Ohio,  Mississippi,  and  Missouri. 

t  This  agrees  well  with  what  we  know  of  the  facility  with  which  they  are 
toled,  as  it  is  called,  by  the  most  simple  artifice,  even  the  waving  of  a  hand- 
kerchief, into  gun-shot,  on  the  waters  of  the  Chesapeake  Bay.  I  do  not  see 
but  that  this  hint  maybe  found  available  in  Bay-shooting.  I  know  that  Brant 
Geese  may  be  driven  by  a  man  rowing,  at  such  a  distance  from  them  as  not  to 
alarm  them  into  taking  wing,  up  to  the  very  muzzle  of  a  concealed  sportsman's 
gun.  This  is,  I  think,  a  recently  discovered  habit  of  the  Brant ;  but  is  now 
regularly  acted  upon,  on  the  south  side  of  liOng  Island.  Oa  the  first  opportu- 
nity I  will  certainly  try  it  with  Red-heads. 


I 


UPLAND   SHOOTING. 


311 


; 


a  bay,  you  have  only  to  conceal  yourself  at  the  other,  and  send 
your  man  round  to  whore  they  are  diving.  They  will  most 
likely  come  straight  towards  you,  and,  again  beginning  to  feed, 
will  probably  every  five  or  ten  minutes  draw  all  together  with 
their  heads  up.  Now  is  your  time  to  fire,  if  you  have  the  good 
fortune  to  be  within  sliot ;  but  should  you  prefer  two  birds  in 
the  liand  to  waiting  for  their  knitting  together,  you  may  have  a 
capital  right  and  left  when  they  come  up  from  diving :  I  how- 
ever, should  be  loath  to  lose  tlie  opportunity  of  the  sitting  shot. 
"  There  are  many  other  divers  that  frequent  our  lochs,  such  as 
the  tufted*  and  scaupt  Ducks,  &c.,  but  they  may  all  be  ap- 
proached in  the  same  way  as  the  Golden-eye  and  the  Moxillon ; 
none  are  so  shy  as  the  former.^     Those  that  feed  on  fish,  such 

•  The  Ring-necked  Duck  of  America.     Fuligula  Rufitorques. 

t  The  Scuup-duck — in  the  West,  Flocking  Fowl — on  the  Chesapeake, 
Bluck-hoad — commonly  Blue-bill,  or  Broad-bill,  Fuligula  Marila.  All  these 
are  properly  Sea  Ducks ;  but  all  are  found  to  the  Westward,  us  iu  Great  Bri- 
tain, more  or  less  inland. 

\  "  Last  winter  I  had  a  good  opportunitv  of  contrasting  the  artful  and  suspi- 
cious  nature  of  the  Golden-eye  with  that  of  the  more  confiding  Morillon.  When 
shooting  wild-fowl  on  the  bunks  of  the  Teith,  I  discovered,  with  my  glass,  a 
Golden-eye  feeding  at  the  top  of  .••  long  creek,  and  a  couple  of  Morillons  at  the 
bottom  where  it  joined  the  iiver.  As  they  were  at  some  distance  from  each 
other,  it  was  impossible  to  keep  an  eye  upon  both.  So,  knowing  that  if  the 
Golden-oye  got  a  glimpse  of  me,  he  would  not  stay  to  take  another,  I  was  ob- 
liged to  trust  to  the  simplicity  of  the  more  social  Morillons.  I  got  within  a  fair 
distance  for  my  last  run,  when  the  Morillons,  who  had  caught  a  transient  glance 
at  my  manncuvres,  paid  the  compliment  of  giving  me  their  undivided  attention  ; 
but,  as  they  did  not  leave  the  ground,  nor  show  any  other  sign  of  alarm,  I  wat^ 
congratulating  myself  that  all  was  safe.  The  motneut,  however,  that  the  Gol- 
den-eye came  up  from  the  dive,  he  perceived  that  the  Morillons  were  resting  on 
their  oars,  and  instantly  was  on  his  guard.  It  was  most  curious  to  see  the  cun- 
ning and  tact  of  the  creature,  which  I  had  every  advantage  for  observing,  as  I 
was  well  concealed.  Ho  kept  cruising  about,  with  outstretched  neck,  peering 
first  on  one  side  of  the  creek,  then  on  the  other,  always  selecting  the  best  points 
of  sight  to  halt,  and  make  his  observations.  Nor  would  he  recommence  his  re- 
past until  the  Morillons  had  set  him  the  example.  And,  had  I  not  known  hia 
usual  precaution  of  making  the  first  dive  or  two,  after  being  scared,  very  short, 
he  might  even  then  have  escaped." 


(    I 


,•'  I 


312 


FRANK    forester's    FIELD   SPORTS. 


as  the  fioosander,  Speckled  Diver,  Slicldrakc,  &c.,  require  ra- 
ther difl'erent  tactics.  To  get  a  shot  at  any  of  these,  you  must 
watch  which  way  they  are  feeding,  and,  taking  your  station 
somewhat  in  advance,  wait  until  they  pass  you  ;  they  will  not 
keep  you  long,  as  they  are  very  rapid  in  their  movements.  Take 
tare  that  the  water  is  pretty  deep  where  you  place  yourself,  or 
they  may  dive  at  too  great  a  distance  from  the  shore  for  a  shot ; 
but,  after  all,  they  are  good  for  nothing  but  to  be  stuffed  for  a 
collection. 

"  The  only  other  bird  that  requires  a  separate  notice  is  the 
mighty  Hooper,*  monarch  of  the  flood.  To  get  a  shot  at  tho 
Wild  Swan  is  the  great  object  of  the  sportsman's  desire :  he  is 
not  naturally  so  shy  a  bird  as  the  Wild-duck,  but  still  his  long 
neck,  and  acute  sense  of  hearing,  render  great  caution  neces- 
sary. If,  as  often  happens,  he  is  feeding  along  the  shore,  you 
have  only  to  plant  yourself  in  an  advantageous  situation  a  good 
way  a-hcad,  and  it  will  not  be  long  before  he  makes  his  appear- 
ance ;  but  if  he  is  feeding  at  the  mouth  of  some  brook  or  stream, 
you  must  crawl  in  the  same  way  as  when  after  Wild-ducks. 
Should  you  get  within  a  distant  shot  of  a  Hoopei,  and  are  not 
close  to  the  water  side,  instead  of  firing  from  where  you  are, 
rush  down  to  the  edge  of  the  loch,  and  before  the  Swan  can 
take  wing,  you  will  have  gained  ten  yards  upon  him.  When 
the  thaw  begins  after  very  hard  weather,  they  are  almost  sure 
to  be  feeding  at  the  mouths  of  any  mountain  burns  that  run  into 
the  loch.  Should  you  see  Hoopers  feeding  greedily,  nearly  out 
of  rango  of  your  gun,  in  place  of  taking  the  random  shot,  try  to 
prevent  their  being  disturbed,  and  return  at  dusk  of  evening,  or 
grey  of  morning,  when  they  will  most  likely  have  come  pretty 
close  to  the  shore,  esjiecially  if  any  little  rivulets  run  into  the 
loch  near  :  this  rule  applies  to  most  water-fowl.     If  a  Swan  be 


*  This  is  a  diffbrent  bird  from  the  Swan  of  the  Chesapeake,  Cycnus  AmeH' 
ciinus,  though,  closely  cognate.  Our  bird  never.  I  fancy,  betakes  himself  to 
lakes,  or  the  like,  within  the  limits  of  the  United  States,  though  he  is  said  to  do 
80  in  the  far  West,  beyond  the  Mississippi  and  Rocky  Mountains. 


UPLAND   SHOOTING. 


313 


ire  ra- 
i  must 
station 
•ill  not 
Take 
self,  or 
a  shot ; 
(1  for  a 

3  is  the 
t  at  the 
0 :  he  is 
his  long 
ti  neces- 
ovc,  you 
a  a  good 
5  appoai'- 
ir  stream, 
ll(l-(lucks. 
are  not 
you  are, 
iwan  can 
When 
(nost  sure 
t  run  into 
icavly  out 
lot,  try  to 
vening,  or 
ne  pretty 
into  the 
Swan  be 


alarmed  by  an  enemy  on  shore,  his  wont  is  not  to  lly,  but  to 
swim  majestically  away. 

"  Widi^eou*  and  Teal  are  approached  in  the  same  way  iis 
Wild-ducks,  only  tlie  Widgeon  are  loss  sliy  than  the  Uucks,  and 
the  Teal  than  the  Widgeon.  You  may  sometimes,  in  calm 
weather,  see  Widgeon  in  a  large  flock  purring  and  whistling  a 
couple  of  luindred  yards  from  the  shore;  you  need  give  your- 
self no  trouble  about  them,  as  they  will  probably  not  leave  tlieir 
resting-place  until  they  feed  in  the  evening.  Always  try  to  get 
a  heavy  shot  at  Widgeon,  which,  with  a  little  patience,  you  may 
generally  accomplish.  Teal  are  usually  in  small  flocks ;  so 
that,  if  you  can  get  two  or  three  in  line,  you  had  better  fire,  Ibr 
fear  of  losing  the  sitting  chance  altogether.  I  once  killed  six" 
at  a  shot ;  but,  except  when  they  collect  in  small  ponds  and 
drains  about  tlie  loch-siile,  so  good  an  opportunity  seldom  oc- 
curs. I  have  occasionnlly  seen  Shovellers  on  our  lochs  ;  but 
only  in  the  hardest  winters.  They  resemble  Wild-ducks  in  tlieir 
habits  :  the  only  one  I  ever  shot  was  amrmg  a  flock  of  Ducks. 

"  Good  sport  need  never  be  expected  when  the  loch  is  large, 
as  many  of  the  fowl  swim  u])  creeks,  and  among  ^he  morasses  in 
shore,  where  it  is  difficult  even  to  get  a  flying  s'  i  - ,  while  those 
that  remain  on  the  margin  of  the  loch  are  so  con:  ^aled  by  the 
bushes,  &c.,  that  it  is  quite  impossible  to  see  them.  The  lower 
the  loch  the  better ;  at  all  events,  the  shore  should  be  clearly 
defined.  At  such  times  wild-fowl  have  always  favorite  haunts 
for  feeding  and  resting. 

"  There  is  a  common  saying,  that  specimens  of  all  the  diffe- 
rent kinds  of  water  fowl  which  frequent  the  loch  in  winter,  pre- 
sent themselves  during  the  harvest  moon.  This  is  erroneous  ; 
for  even  the  Morillon,  earliest  of  the  diver  tribe,  seldom  appears 
so  soon,  and  the  Tufted  and  Scaup  Ducks,  Dun-birds,  &c.,  never 


'  'il 


U 


n 


.  J 


I  ■  ] 


i 


:nua  Ameri- 

himself  to 

is  said  to  do 


*  A  different  bird,  though  not  unlike  our  Widgeon,  Anas  Americana,  the 
Bald-pate.  It  is  worthy  of  notice,  tliat  the  Widgeon  of  the  Chesapeake  is  con- 
uidored  the  shyest  and  most  difficult  to  tole,  of  all  the  Ducks  which  frequoiit 
those  waters. 


314 


FRANK    FORESTEIl's    FIELD    SPOUTS. 


' 


until  the  winter  sets  in.*     Multitudes  of  Wikl-ducks  do  como 
down  from  the  moors,  during  harvest,  to  feed  upon  the  corn- 
fields on  the  banks  of  some  of  the  larger  lochs,  and,  when  the 
stubble  becomes  bare,  return  to  the  moor-lochs  until  these  are 
frozen  over,  which  again  drives  them  back.     Tliis  is  the  only 
fomidation  for  the  vulgar  error.     A  day  or  two  is  generally 
sufficient  to  freeze  over  these  little  lochs,  and  their  occupants 
then  como  down  to  the  larger  ones,  the  greater  parts  of  which 
remain  open  long  after  the  storm  has  set  in.     Now  is  the  time 
for  the  wild-fowl  shooter  :  if  the  ground  is  covered  with  snow, 
so  much  the  better.     The  fowl  are  then  in  groups  close  to  the 
shore,  pinched   with  cold  and  hunger,  seeking  shelter   and  a 
scanty  morsel.     If  at  the  same  time  it  is  windy,  with  drilVs  of 
snow,  no  weather  can  be  m(ue  propitious  ftu'  Ducks,  Widgeon, 
Teal,  and  all  wild-fowl  that  feed  at  the  margin.     When  the 
snow  is  falling  thick  and  fast,  a  capital  sitting  shot  may  some- 
times be  obtained,  though  the  ground  be  so  bare  as  to  oft'er  no 
concealment.     In  most  cases,  however,  it  is  best  not  to  take  the 
cover  off  your  gun  till  the  shower  moderates  a  little,  as  snow  is 
8o  apt  to  penetrate,  and  make  it  miss  fire. 

"  If  the  weather  be  open,  the  higher  the  wind  the  better,  as 
it  drives  to  the  shore  whatever  fowl  are  upon  the  loch,  although 
until  the  frost  sets  in  they  will  be  comparatively  few. 

"  The  most  auspicious  weather  for  divers  is  one  of  those  frost} 
days,  accompanied  by  mist,  when  the  locli  is  perfectly  calm,  and 
looks  like  a  mirror  dimmed  by  one's  breath.  You  may  then 
hear  their  plash  in  the  water — sometimes  even  before  they  can 
be  seen — and,  if  care  is  taken  to  make  no  rustliiig  among  the 
bushes,  when  they  are  above  the  water,  you  have  every  pros- 

*  These  observations  on  the  seasons  of  these  birds  in  Great  Britain,  might, 
perhaps,  have  been  omitted  ;  but  I  consider  the  wliole  of  this  extract  so  very 
able  and  correct,  that,  taking  into  consideration  the  vast  extent  and  variety  of 
latitude  covered  by  the  shooting  grounds  of  America,  in  some  of  wliich  the  cli- 
mate closely  resembles  that  of  England,  I  have  not  been  able  to  prevail  on  my- 
self  to  omit  it  ;  as  I  doubt  not  there  are  places  at  which  the  cap  will  bo  found 
to  At,  and  the  hints  of  consequence  to  be  useful. 


UPLAND    SIIOOTINO. 


315 


e  frost} 
m,  anil 
ly  then 
icy  can 
oiig  the 
•y  pros- 

,  might, 
ct  BO  very 
arioty  of 
uh  the  cli- 
ail  ou  my- 
II  bo  found 


poet  of  a  good  diaiico.  Tho  smootlinoss  of  tlio  surfaco  and  tlm 
mist  makes  each  bird  appear  twice  as  large  as  it  is,  which  eua- 
hlt'S  yon  much  mure  easily  to  catclj  sight  of  them  coming  up 
from  the  dive.  Tho  mist  is  also  an  excelUnit  shroud,  if  the  ground 
is  open,  without  a  bush  or  tuft  of  reeds  to  hide  behind,  when 
tile  birds  are  above  water. 

"  Tho  wild-fowl  shooter  must  never  forget,  that  true  proof  of 
his  skill  consists  in  obtaining  sitting  shots,  and  stopping  a  num- 
bet  of  fowl  at  one  discharge;  and,  unless  with  divers,  must  not 
think  of  a  flying  right  and  left. 

"  As  an  instance  of  what  may  be  done  by  patience  and  cau- 
tion, I  may  conclude  this  paper  by  mentioning,  that  the  game- 
keeper of  a  relation,  having  seen  a  flock  of  Ducks  pitched  upon 
the  shore,  and  no  way  of  getting  near  them  but  over  a  bare 
field,  crawled  flat  upon  his  face  a  distance  of  three  hundred 
yards,  pushing  his  gun  before  him,  not  daring  even  to  raise  his 
head,  and  at  last  got  witliin  such  fair  distance,  that  ho  stopped 
four  with  his  first  barrel,  and  one  with  tho  other,  securing  them 
all.  His  gun  was  only  a  small  fowling-piece.  I  should  add 
that  he  had  been  trained  to  deer-stalking,  under  his  father,  from 
a  boy." 

It  may,  perhaps,  be  thought  worthy  of  remark,  that  this  is  the 
single  quotation  which  I  shall  offer  to  my  readers  from  any 
English  author,  as  regards  the  mode  of  beating  for,  pursuing, 
or  killing  any  kind  of  game.  When  I  come  to  treat  of  gun- 
nery, the  breeds,  breaking,  diseases,  and  treatment  of  dogs,  and 
the  like  topics,  it  is  on  British  sporting  authors  especially,  almost 
exclusively,  that  I  shall  rely ;  but,  in  fact,  the  game  of  America 
is  so  different,  the  places  and  modes  of  taking  it  so  much  at  va- 
riance, and  tho  habits  of  the  few  animals  of  chase,  which  are 
nearly  allied  in  the  two  countries,  are  so  completely  distinct 
from  those  of  England,  that  the  precepts  of  the  best  English 
sporting  writers  are  useless  here.  Of  Col.  Hawker's  great 
work,  above  half — which  half  was  very  properly  rejected  by  its 
able  American  editor — relates  to  fowl  shooting,  and  fowling 


I'  i* 


r 

t  • 

1? 


I 


31(3 


FRANK    forester's    FiELD    SPORTS. 


\\  ' 


Jippnnitus,  08  prncticcd  nntl  ndoptcd  on  tlio  conHt  of  England, 
nil  wliifli  would  1)0  of  no  moro  use  to  a  yportsman  licre,  than  a 
treatise?  on  arcliery  of  the  fourteenth  century  to  u  Kentucky 
riflenian. 

The  uhovo  extracts  are  practical,  and  applicable  to  any  and 
every  c(nnitry,  and  cjinnot  Inil  to  he  found  generally  useful. 

The  only  other  observiitions  to  ho  made  on  Upland  fowl 
shooting,  relate  to  the  quality  of  gun  most  adapted  to  the  sport, 
and  the  size  of  shot,  grain  of  powder,  and  the  like,  which  are, 
of  course,  all  more  or  less  diflereiil  from  those  u>cd  in  Upland 
shooting  for  ordinary  game. 

To  a  person  living  in  a  country  where  this  sport  can  be  rea- 
dily and  often  pursued,  and  who  is  an  amateur  in  it,  a  gun  espe- 
cially made  for  the  purpose  is  indispensable.  It  must  be  a 
double-barrel,  and  as  heavy  as  can  conveniently  be  carried ; 
the  more  metal,  the  less  recoil,  and  liic  greater  force  of  propul- 
sion ;  extreme  length  is  utterly  useless — nay,  detrimental ! — for 
a  gun  of  four  feet  barrel  must  either  be  unmanageably  pon- 
derous, or  must  be  so  light  at  the  breech  as  to  become  toi)-heavy. 
All  that  is  requisite  is  a  gun  that  will  throw  from  two  to  three 
ounces  of  No.  3  or  4  shot,  very  strong,  and  very  regularly  dis- 
tributed. For  any  ordinary  purpose,  two  ounces  of  shot  is  suffi- 
cient; and  in  my  opinion  the  gun  which  will  do  that  as  ed'ec- 
lively  as  any  that  can  be  made,  is  one  of  12-guage,  36  inches 
barrel,  and  9  to  10  lbs.  weight.  A  gun  of  this  kind  can  be  fur- 
nished by  Mr.  Mullin,  of  Barclay  street.  New- York,  next  door 
to  the  "  Spirit  of  the  Times"  office,  for  a  hundred  dollars,  of  ex- 
cellent quality ;  and  I  only  give  an  opinion  on  which  I  have 
acted,  and  not  been  disappointed,  when  I  say  that  I  would  ra- 
ther have  a  gun  of  his  workmanship  made  to  my  order,  for  any 
price  not  exceeding  one  hundred  and  fifty  dollars,  than  any  im- 
ported gun  at  the  same  rate. 

The  high  qualities  of  English  guns  are  not  to  be  sui-passed, 
but  cannot  be  furnished  by  any  first-rate  maker  short  of — ajipur- 
tenances  included — ^£56.  This,  with  30  per  ct.  ad  valorem  duty 
added,  shipping  charges,  &c.,  will  amount  to  a  very  large  price. 


ITI-AND   SHOOTIVU. 


317 


Novortlioloss,  T  Hiiy,  if  any  mnii  li»!  disposod  fo  iro  to  flin  tnniMe 
of  impdrtimf  an  Kniflisli  i,nm  at  all,  li-t  him  import  a  firHf-rafo 
aii<l  first  pricn  Lo/nlon  article.  T  iiovrr  saw  ii  nirmim,'liam  i^iin 
I  would  linvo  cared  to  sliont  with  ;  ami  I  do  not  consider  that 
Wrsflcy  Richiirds'  mi-iifs  at  all  «'(jii:d  his  n^pntation.  [  considor 
Pmdcy,  LnnciiMtor,  and  Mnorc  and  fJray,  fho  first  three  niakora 
of  tho  day  ;  and  were  T  (dVoiod  tho  gill  of  a  <,nin,  with  fho  choice 
of  the  maker,  I  should  name  tho  latter  house  as  my  makers. 

No.  4  shot  I  CDMsider  (piite  larije  oiiouirh  for  any  kind  ftf 
fowl,  unless  Canada  fu^csc,  or  Wild  Swans  ;  but  I  would  al- 
ways use  a  g/rrn  Eley's  cartriilgo  in  one  barrel.  The  beet 
powder,  beyoud  all  (picstion  or  comparison,  for  fowlinif,  and  es- 
pecially nca  shooting,  is  what  is  called  Iluwkvr'x  Ducking  Powder, 
pn!()ared  by  Curtis  and  Harvey,  as  tho  diamond  grain  of  tho 
same  house  is  by  all  odds  the  rpiickest,  stroinrcst,  and  cleanest 
powder  in  the  world.  Tho  grain  of  the  ducking  powder  is  ex- 
tremely c(»arse — coarser  than  cannon  powder — and  very  hard  ; 
it  is  not,  therefore,  liable  to  become  damp  or  li<|uefied,  when 
exposed  to  a  saline  atmosphere.  Notwithstanding  the  large 
size  of  its  grain,  it  is  readily  ignited  even  in  a  small  gun,  by  one 
of  Starkey's  central  fire  waterproof  ca])s.  One  of  these,  for  an 
experiment,  I  kept  forty-eight  hours  hi  a  tumbler  full  of  water, 
and  it  exploded  «piickly  and  cleanly.  There  is  nothing  like 
them, — but,  like  all  good  things,  they  are  dear.  For  the  rest,  a 
person  who  cares  to  keep  but  one  gun,  will  fmd  himself  able  to 
do  good  work  with  a  general  shooting  ])iece  of  14-guage,  32 
inches  barrel,  and  8  lbs.  weight,  even  at  fowl,  if  he  uses  No.  4, 
Eley's  wire  cartridges.  Vcrbmn  sap.  And  so  adieu  to  Upland 
shooting. 


i 


ttl 


'1 


If   ,.    m 


i318 


FRANK    KOKESTEK  S    FIELD    SPORTS. 


SPORTING   DOGS 


S  without  the  aid  of  well  bred 
and  well  broke  dogs  no  game 
can  1)6  either  successfully  or  sci- 
entificallly  pursued,  and  as  in  the 
management  of  this  noble  ani- 
mal both  in  the  kennel  and  the 
field  consists,  perhaps,  the  great- 
er part  of  the  tnie  science  of 
woodcraft,  no  work  on  field 
sports  can  be  esteemed  in  any- 
wise complete,  which  does  not  treat  of  their  breeds,  character- 
.istics  and  general  treatment ;  whether  in  health,  in  sickness,  in 
the  house,  or  in  the  field.  This  poition  of  my  subject,  I  there- 
fore, now  approach,  without  farther  observation  than  this,  that 
neither  a  complete  history  of  canine  pathology,  nor  a  full 
treatise  on  dog-breaking  must  be  looked  for  within  the  limits  of 
such  a  book  as  this,  and  that  a  few  general  directions  and  hints 
only  can  be  afforded  on  a  topic  which  has  itself  occupied  many 
volumes,  devoted  to  it  entirely  by  writers  of  competent  talent 
and  experience. 

Two  of  these,  more  especially,  should  be  found  in  every 
sportsman's  library,  I  mean  Youatt  on  the  Dog,  and  Blaine's 
Canine  Pathology.  Of  the  first  of  these  works  a  handsome 
edition  has  been  recently  published  by  Messrs.  Lea  &  Blan- 


UPLAND    SHdOTlNG. 


319 


chard  of  Philadclpliia,  under  the  editorial  supervision  of  E. 
J.  Lewis,  M.  D.,  of  tlr.it  city,  a  gentleman  who  has  perform- 
ed his  part  with  cr.editable  accuracy,  diligence  and  research  ; 
and,  whose  fondness  for  the  animal  in  (picstion,  and  his  long 
study  of  its  peculiarities,  entitle  his  observations  to  respectful 
attention;  although  to  some  of  his  views,  especially  in  regard  to 
breeding  and  races,  I  must  enter  my  dissent.  The  latter  book 
has  never,  I  believe,  been  republished  in  America,  but  the 
English  edition  is  not  costly,  and  may  be  obtained  from  any 
considerable  bookseller  in  the  United  States.  With  these  two 
guides  and  text-books  in  his  possession  the  sportsman  will  be 
little  at  a  loss  in  regard  either  to  the  diaiinosis  or  treatment  of 
diseases,  which  he  must  perforce  attend  to  personally  in  this 
country,  as  veterinary  surgeons  are  neither  numerous  nor 
skilful,  generally  speaking,  even  in  the  larger  cities,  while  in 
the  country  districts  they  arc  not ;  and  even  where  they  are, 
canine  pathology  is  little  understood  or  prijfessed  by  them. 

To  proceed  at  once  then  in  medias  res,  the  races  of  sporting 
dogs  used  in  upland  shooting,  are  throe  in  number,  the  Setter, 
the  Pointer  and  the  Spaniel,  and  of  each  race  several  varieties 
are  in  use,  all  being  of  the  division  known  as  sagacrs,  being 
distinguished  by  their  qualities  of  insinict  and  powers  of  scent- 
ing, in  contradistinction  to  speed  or  ferocity. 

Of  these  the  best  known,  and  most  generally  used,  and  1 
must  think  with  justice,  as  superior  in  beauty,  endurance  and 
aptitude  to  our  climate  and  style  of  shooting,  is 


I"    i 


.>  I, 


' 


H 


THE    SETTER. 


every 
Jlaine's 
idsorae 

Blan- 


The  origin  of  this  beautiful  and  admirable  species  is  beyond 
a  doubt,  the  large  land  Spaniel  improved  by  judicious  breeding 
to  his  peculiar  size  and  beauty,  and  taught,  until  teaching  has 
become  second  habit,  and  the  result  of  training  grown  into  an 
hereditary  instinct,  to  mark  his  game  by  setting  or  crouching, 
instead  of  flushing  it  on  the  instant. 
VOL.  I.  23 


1  \ 


II 


li 


320 


FRANK   FORESTER  S  FIELD   SFORTS. 


IM 


Hi 


i 


A  groat  (leal  of  absurd  nonsense  has  been  written  about  llio 
breed  and  race  of  tlic  Setter,  from  the  mass  of  which  I  shall  select 
the  following  passage  lor  two  reasons,  first  that  it  reaches  the 
very  climax  of  possible  stupidity,  and  second,  tliat  it  is  from  the 
pen  of  one  who  should  know  bettor,  at  least  to  merit  tlie  reputa- 
tion he  has  acquired  ;  l)eing  no  other  than  the  person  who  has 
gain(!d  very  considerable  celebrity  as  the  author  of"  The  Sports- 
man in  France,"  "  The  Sportsman  in  Ireland  and  Scotland," 
and  "  The  Sportsman  in  Canada." 

After  stating  tliat  the  Setter  is  his  favorite  dog  in  the  field, 
and  decidedly  the  most  useful  for  geiieral  shooting  in  France," 
Mr.  Tolfrcy  actually  proceeds  to  give  the  following  receipt  for 
MAKiNO  A  liRKEU  OF  Sktters,  forgetful,  apparently,  that  it  is 
very  unnecessary  to  set  about  making,  what  nature  has  already 
made  in  perfection  to  our  hand,  and  cjuite  ignorant,  it  should 
seem,  that  it  is  impossible  to  make  a  pure  strain  from  any  com- 
bination of  crosses.  There  is  no  doubt  whatever  that  the  true 
Setter  is  a  pure  stiain  of  unmixed  Spaniel  blood,  the  only 
improvement  produced  in  the  breed  arisijig  from  its  judicious 
cultivation,  by  the  selection  of  the  largest,  healthiest  and  hand- 
somest individuals  of  both  sexes  from  which  to  rear  a  progeny, 
and  by  the  careful  development  of  their  (jualities,  by  scientific 
feeding,  exercising,  and  bringing  into  condition.  The  following 
receipt  may  therefore  make  a  useful  mongrel,  but  can  no  more 
make  a  Setter,  than  crossing  a  Quagga,  a  Zebra  and  a  Cana- 
dian pony — all  varieties  of  the  horse  breed — can  make  a 
thorough-bred. 

"  The  ])rcliminary  step,"  he  says,  "  is  to  put  a  fine  bred  and 
anexci!i)tional)le  Pointer  bitch  to  a  noted  Foxhound  ;  you  will 
then  have  laid  the  foundation  of  three  essential  qualities,  speed, 
nose  and  courage.  Docility  and  sagacity  are  also  requisites, 
and  to  obtain  them  cross  the  offspring  with  the  small  and 
slender  race  of  Newfoundland  dog.  The  produce  will  be  as 
near  perfectitm  as  possible  ;  they  will  take  to  the  water,  re- 
trieve, and  for  general  shooting  will  be  found  the  very  best  and 
most  useful  animal  the  sportsman  can  desire." 


UPLAND   SHOOTIxNG. 


321 


I 


'  ,1  'il 


select 
c8  the 
)m  the 
eputa- 
ht)  has 
Sports- 
itlauil," 

le  fiel«l, 

'vaiice," 

reipt  for 

hat  it  is 

;  ahcatly 

it  shoulil 

any  com- 

t  the  true 
the  only 

judicious 

[Uiil  haiul- 
piogcuy, 
scientific 
folh)\ving 
no  more 
,1  a  C  ana- 
make   a 

.  bretl  and 
you  will 
lies,  speed, 
1  requisites, 
Ismail  and 
I  will  be  as 
water,  re- 
l-y  best  and 


I  quote  the  above  as  I  have  said,  merely  to  caution  the 
sportsman  against  giving  the  least  heed  to  any  such  stuff,  and 
to  warn  him  to  avoid  anv  crossino:  or  intermixture  of  breeds  as 
he  would  the  plague.  If  he  prefer  the  Pointer,  let  him  stick 
to  Pointer,  but  let  it  be  a  Pointer  pure.  If  Setter,  let  him  do 
tin;  same.  Any  mixture,  even  of  those  two  kindred  bloctds  is 
in  nine  cases  out  of  ten,  disadvantageous,  and  instead  of  com- 
bining the  peculiar  excellencies,  the  produce  is  very  apt  to 
unite  the  worst  qualities  of  the  several  strains,  superadded  to  a 
Bullenness  and  badness  of  temper,  which  is  in  some  sort,  the 
characteristic  of  all  mules. 

Mr.  Lewis  is  under  the  impression,  as  I  gather  from  his 
comments  on  Youatt,  that  it  is  the  fashion  in  England,  to 
intermix  Setter  and  Pointer  blood,  by  way  of  improving  the 
former,  and  that  the  majoiity  of  English  Setters  has  been  so 
intermingled  intentionally,  with  the  idea  that  the  qualities  of 
the  animal  are  improved  thereby. 

This  idea  is  utterly  eiToneous  ;  for,  although  doubtless  much 
Setter  blood  has  been  thus  vitiated,  no  persons  pridi?:g  them- 
selves on  their  kennels,  or  lanciful,  not  to  say  scientific,  about 
theii'  breeds  of  dogs,  would  admit  one  of  these  mongrels  into 
their  establishment,  much  less  breed  from  him.  Such  an  inter- 
mixture is  regarded  as  decidedly  a  taint,  as  a  strain  of  cock-tail, 
blood  in  the  pedigree  of  a  thorough-bred  horse.  And  very 
many  loblemen  and  gentlemen  pay  as  much  attention  to  tlieii- 
breeding  kennels,  and  their  peculiar  and  private  strains  of 
Pointers  and  Setters,  as  others  do  to  the  breeding  and  rearing 
of  the  race  horse. 

The  Pointer  is  a  made  dog,  that  is  to  say,  he  is  not  of  an 
original  or  pure  breed,  traceable  to  any  one  variety,  nor  has  he 
been  known  to  the  sporting  world  for  any  considerable  length 
of  time.  The  Spaniel  is  first  mentioned,  and  that  in  his 
improved  form  as  a  Setter,  i.  e.  taught  to  couch,  in  a  MS.  work 
written  by  the  grand  huntsman  to  Edward  the  Second,  so  long 
ago  as  A.  D.  1307,  whereas  the  Pouiter  was  not  known  in  the 
sixteenth  century,  and  jjrobably  has  nut  existed  in  liis  presuut 


I*  1 


^ 
ill 

iiJ 


*  » 


322 


FRANK    forester's   FIELD   SPORTS. 


improved  fomi,  for  much  above  a  hundred  years.  He  was 
known  originally  as  the  Spanish  Pointer,  and  was  probably  first 
reared  in  that  country,  to  which  his  peculiar  capacity  tor  endu- 
ring heat  and  the  want  of  water  singularly  adapts  him. 

It  appears  probable  that  he  is  an  improved  or  altered  fonn 
of  the  Foxhound,  bred  and  trained  to  stand  instead  of  chasing 
his  game,  and  to  repress  his  cry ;  and  it  is  generally  supposed 
that  this  was  effected  and  his  present  type  obtained  by  crossing 
the  Foxhound  with  the  Spaniel.  I  cannot  say  that  I  believe 
this  to  be  the  case,  as  I  cannot  see  by  what  analogy  the  crossing 
a  feather-sterned  dog,  such  as  the  Hound,  with  one  entirely  rough 
and  silky-haired,  like  the  Spaniel,  should  result  in  the  produc- 
tion of  d  J'ace,  the  characteristic  of  which  is  the  closest  and  most 
satin-like  of  coats,  and  the  whip-like  tail  of  a  rat.  I  am  inclined 
myself  to  believe  that  the  original  stock  is  from  the  Foxhound, 
and  smooth-haired  Danish  or  Pomeranian  dog,  crossed  perhajis 
again  with  Spaniel,  but  so  slightly  as  to  show  few  of  its  charac- 
teristic points.  The  Pointer  being,  as  I  have  said,  originally  a 
cross-bred  dog,  sportsmen  conlinued  to  mix  his  blood  occasi- 
onally to  obtain  ditfercnt  qualities,  to  a  late  period,  and  even  now 
Foxhound  blood  is  occasionally  added,  in  order  to  give  dash 
and  courage.  I  should  not  be  surprised  to  find  that  a  cross  of 
the  Bull-dog  had  been  introduced,  as  it  was  advantageously 
into  the  Greyhound  by  Lord  Orford,  though  T  have  found  no 
mention  of  the  fact — but  the  type  of  the  animal  is  now  firmly 
established,  and  the  finest  breed  reproduces  itself  in  its  finest 
strain,  if  purely  bred. 

The  cross  breeding,  which  I  have  named,  has  never  been 
allowed  with  regard  to  the  Setter,  however,  except  by  some 
ignorant  or  prejudiced  keeper,  or  some  person  desirous  of  pre- 
serving, by  this  unnatural  union,  some  qualities  of  a  favorite 
individual  of  either  strain.  In  any  well-kept  kennels  a  chance 
Utter  from  a  Setter  bitch  by  a  Pointer  dog,  or  rice  versa,  would 
undoubtedly  be  condemned  to  the  horse-pond,  and  with  Irish 
sportsmen,  who  are  very  choice  of  their  Setters,  a  cross  even 
with  the  English  Setter  would  be  regarded  as  a  blemish. 


;  ; 


UPLAND   SHOOTING. 


:i23 


e  ^^'as 

ly  first 

•  enilvi- 

3d  fonn 
clvasing 

crossing 
L  believe 
,  crossing 
ely  rougU 
e  proiluc- 
and  tnost 
m  inclined 
Foxhound, 
ed  perhaps 

•  its  cliarac- 
,riginally  a 

lood  occasi- 
|id  even  now 
give  dash 
it  a  cross  of 
•antageously 
e  found  no 
now  firmly 
in  its  finest 

never  been 
Jept  by  some 
Isirous  of  pve- 
lof  a  favorite 
Inels  a  cbance 
ji  versa,  would 
[nd  with  Irisb 
a  cross  even 
Wemish- 


The  Setter  is  too  well  known  in  this  country  to  require  u 
particular  description,  it  may  be  well,  however,  to  call  the 
attention  to  some  of  those  points,  wliich  peculiarly  indicate 
purity  of  breed ;  the  first  (»f  these  is  undoubtedly  the  nature  of 
his  coat,  which,  in  the  finest  and  purest  strain,  is  long,  sleek 
and  wavy,  but  not  curb),  tvoii  upon  the  crest  and  ears — a  ten- 
dency to  curl  indicating  an  admixture  of  the  AVater  S2)!iniel — it 
Bhould  be  as  soft,  and  almost  as  fine  and  glossy  as  floss  silk,  and 
on  his  stern  and  along  the  back  of  his  legs  should  expand  into 
a  fringe  known  technically  as  the  feathering,  often  of  many 
inches  in  extent.  The  head  should  be  bioad  between  the  eyes, 
with  a  high  bony  process  or  ridge  at  the  hinder  extremity  of 
the  skull,  between  the  ears,  which  is  by  many  sportsmen  thought 
to  indicate  the  degr(>e  of  the  animal's  olfactory  powi'rs.  There 
should  be  rather  a  deep  indenture  between  the  eyes ;  the  nose 
should  be  long  rather  than  broad,  and  somewhat  tapering,  with 
soft,  moist,  well-expanded  nostrils,  and  above  all  things,  a 
hlacli  nose  and  palate,  with  a  full,  liipiid,  dark  and  singularly 
expressive  eye.  The  best  breed  is  not  very  tall  or  bulky,  and 
the  great,  heavy-shouldered,  coarse,  sijuare-headed,  club-tailed, 
fleecy  brutes  which  are  generally  called  Setters,  in  this  country, 
are  probably  the  result  of  some  such  cross  as  that  recommended 
by  Mr.  Tolfrey,  on  the  original  Setter  stock. 

The  best  and  most  useful  dog  is  of  medium  height,  very  deep- 
chested  and  liigh-withcred,  what  we  should  call  in  a  horse, 
well  coupled,  or  closely  ribbed  up,  and  very  strong  and  broad 
across  the  loins.  The  legs  should  be  straight,  and  the  longer  to 
the  knee  and  hock  joints,  and  the  shorter  thence  to  the  pasteins 
the  better.  The  feet  should  be  hard,  round,  and  cat-like,  and 
well  provided  with  ball  and  toe  tufts,  which  are  of  great  effi- 
cacy in  protecting  the  feet  from  becoming  sore,  either  from  wet 
and  ice,  or  from  hard,  stony,  or  stubby  ground.  Their  action, 
when  in  movement,  is  very  lithe  and  graceful,  the  stern  is  carried 
high,  and  constantly  feathered,  and  it  is  a  good  sign  if  the  head 
is  likewise  carried  high,  and  if  the  dog  snuff  the  air  when  scent- 
ing his  game,  rather  than  stoop  his  nose  to  the  ground,  and 


!■■  II 


■'i   \\ 


1    : 


■'  T  ■"  v^--"- ' — TrC  " 


324 


FRANK    FORESTEk's    FIELD    SPORTS. 


puzzle  for  his  scent,  which  habit  is  often  the  result  of  a    ditl- 
ciency  in  his  olfactory  power. 

In    my   opinion,  the    Setter   is   infinitely   preferable   to  the 
Pointer  ev(nywhere,  unless  in  tlry,  barren  plains,  where  water 
is  not  to  he  had ;  as  in  such  places  the  Pointer  can  hunt  well  on 
an  allowaii(!0  of  fluid,  on  which  a  Setter  could  not  exist.     The 
Pointer  is  more  docile,  it  is  true,  and  has,  perhaps,  a  finer  nose, 
though  I  think  his  extreme  caution,  rather  than  superior  scent- 
ing (jualities,  has  led  to  the  idea  of  his  superiority  in  this  res- 
pect.    These  (|ualities   are,   however,    counterl)alanced   by  so 
many  other  j)oints  of  superiority  on  the  part  of  the  Setter,  that 
I  must  decidedly  give  him  the  palm  over  his  rival,  and  espe- 
cially for  this  country,  in  which  I  am  perfectly  satisfied  that  one 
brace  of  Setters  will  do  as  much  work,  and  that  work  more  sa- 
tisfactorily, than  two  brace  of  Pointers,  hunted  steadily  through 
the  season,  week  in  and  week  out.     Individual  Pointers  may 
be,  and  have  been,  of  rare  excellence,  but  as  a  rflce  they  cannot 
compete  with  the  Setter.     For  a  mere  tyro,  who  does  not  know 
how  to  conti-ol  his  dogs,  or  for  one  who  lives  in  a  city,  and  takes 
his  dog  out  five  or  six  times  in  a  year  only,  a  Pointer  is  un- 
doubtedly preferable — foi",  without  work,  a  Setter  is  apt  to  be 
headstrong  and  wild — but  for  the  every-day  shot,  the  all-day- 
long shot,  the  rough-and-tumble,  eager,  scientific,  keen  sports- 
man, rely  upon  it  the  Setter  is  the  dog. 

Of  the  Setter,  there  are  three  principal  varieties. 
The  Enomsh  Setter,  which  is  the  animal  commonly  in  use 
in  this  country,  too  well  known  to  need  peculiar  description,  of 
which  the  points  described  above  are  the  principal  characteris- 
tics. He  is  found  of  all  colors — black,  black  and  white,  black 
and  tan,  pure  white,  liver,  liver  and  white,  orange  or  red,  and 
yellow  and  white  spotted ;  and  of  all  these  colors  he  is  found 
good  ;  indeed,  as  of  the  horse,  it  may  be  said,  that  a  good  dog 
cannot  be  of  a  bad  color.  Nevertheless,  I  am  apt  to  think  that 
liver  color  is  apt  to  indicate  a  predominance  of  Pointer,  or  Water 
Spaniel  blood,  though  take  him  altogether,  the  best  dog  I  ever 
owned  was  liver  and  white,  and  so  curly  about  the  liead  that  I 


UPLAND    SHOOTING. 


52.-) 


(lifl- 

the 
prater 
ill  on 

The 

nose, 
sccnt- 
is  res- 
hy  so 
>r,  that 
[  espe- 
[lat  one 
lore  sa- 
hrough 
■IS  may 
r  cannot 
pt  know 
ncl  takes 
r  is  un- 
mt  to  he 
all-day- 
sports- 


ily  in  use 
liption.of 
laracteris- 
ite,  hlack 
red,  and 
is  found 
rood  dog 
Ithink  that 
or  Water 
log  I  ever 
•ad  that  1 


BOmetimcs  suspected  a  Spaniel  cross.  A  chocolate-colored  nose 
[  look  upon  as  very  suspicious,  and  a  flesh-colored,  or  white 
nose,  I  think  indicative  of  softness  of  constitution. 

The  Ihisu  Srtter  is  either  pure  red,  or  red  and  white,  or 
yellow  and  white  spotted.  His  nose,  lips,  and  palate,  are  inva- 
riably hlack.  His  coat  is  somewhat  more  wiry,  and  his  frame 
more  bony  and  muscular  than  the  English  dog.  He  is  the  har 
diest  and  most  dauntless  of  the  race,  and,  though  apt  to  be  some- 
what unmanageable  and  headstrong,  if  he  is  sulficiently  worked, 
and  managed  with  a  tight  hand,  these  faults  can  be  kept  down, 
while  his  hidomitable  pluck,  his  rapidity,  his  perseverance,  and 
his  dash,  render  him,  in  my  opinion,  for  the  real  hard-working 
sportsman,  preferable  to  his  Eiiirlish  brother. 

The  Scotch  and  Welsh  Setteiis  are  in  no  respect  distinct 
varieties,  and  only  differ  from  the  English,  as  being  inferior  in 
purity  of  blood.  The  Irish  dog  is  umloubtedly  the  original  type 
of  the  Setter  in  Great  Britain. 

The  Russian  Setter  is,  however,  clearly  a  distinct  variety; 
and  it  is  a  little  remarkable  that  this  race  has  never  been  des- 
cribed in  any  American  work,  and  that  Mr.  Vouatt,  and  his 
editor.  Dr.  Lewis,  seem  to  be  alike  unaware  of  its  existence. 

It  is  rather  taller  than  the  English  dog,  and  is  very  muscular 
and  bony.  The  head  is  very  much  shorter  and  rounder  than 
that  of  any  other  Setter,  and  is  covered  with  such  a  fleece  of 
coarse  woolly  hair,  that  unless  it  is  clipped  awi.y  from  the  brows, 
the  animal  can  scarcely  sec.  The  whole  body  is  covered  i)y  a 
coat  of  long,  thick,  woolly  fleece,  hanging  in  elf-locks  knotted 
together,  of  many  inches  in  length,  as  curly,  though  six  times  as 
long,  as  those  of  the  Water  Poodle.  Its  olfactory  powers  are 
of  the  very  highest  order,  its  docility  and  sagacity  unequalled, 
and  its  courage  jn  facing  briars  or  water,  its  endurance  of  cold 
and  fatigue,  ai'e  such  as  to  entitle  it,  in  my  opinion,  to  the  first 
place  of  the  whole  race.  It  makes  an  admirable  retriever,  and 
would,  I  think,  suit  this  country  beyond  any  dog  with  which 
I  am  acquainted,  though  I  have  never  seen  one  in  America.  It 
is  less  handsome  than  the  English  and  Irish  breeds,  but  its  qua- 


•■■■  i 


1   I 


-h 


'I 

i 


'!    S 


lit 
I 

i 


t 


i  I 


326 


FRANK    FOUESTER's    FIELD   SPORTS. 


litioH  are  first-rate.  They  are  more  common  in  the  Norlli  than 
in  tlie  Soutli  of  England,  and  are  much  used  on  the  moors.  Tlie 
Duke  of  Devonshire  had,  when  I  was  in  Enghind,  and  I  believe 
keeps  to  tliis  day,  this  fine  variety  in  its  purity  ;  and  in  my  hoy- 
hood,  my  father,  the  late  Dean  of  Manchester,  had  some  excel- 
l«!nt  dogs  of  the  Kussian  breed,  one  of  which,  Charon,  was  the 
best  dog,  far  or  near,  over  which  I  ever  have  drawn  a  trigger. 

As  the  excellences  of  the  Setter  f)r  Pointer  is  a  mooted  (jucs- 
tion,  and  one  of  great  utility  and  importance  to  the  sportsman, 
I  am  not  willing  t(j  rely  solely  on  my  own  judgment  therein,  and 
have,  on  this  accoimt,  extracted  from  the  American  edition  of 
Youatt,  Dr.  Lewis'  opinion  of  the  merits  op  the  Setter,  com- 
PAKi:i>  WITH  those  of  the  Pointer. 

"  It  cannot  for  a  moment  be  doubted,"  he  says,  "that  the 
Setter  has  superior  advantages  to  the  Pointer,  for  hunting  over 
our  uncleared  country,  although  the  Pointer  has  many  qualities 
that  recommend  him  to  the  sportsman,  that  the  Setter  does  not 
possess.  In  the  first  place,  the  extreme  hardiness  and  swiftness 
of  fi)ot,  natural  to  the  Setter,  enables  him  to  get  over  much 
more  ground  than  the  Pointer,  in  the  same  space  of  time.  Their 
feet  also,  being  more  hard  and  firm,  are  not  so  liable  to  become 
sore  from  contact  with  our  frozen  ground.  The  ball-pads  being 
well  piotected  by  the  Spaniel  toe-tufts,  are  less  likely  to  be 
wounded  by  the  thorns  and  burs  with  which  our  woods  are 
crowded  during  the  winter  season.  His  natural  enthusiasm  for 
hunting,  coupled  with  his  superior  physical  powers,  enables  him 
to  stand  much  more  work  than  the  Pointer,  and  oftentimes  he 
appears  quite  fresh  upon  a  long-continued  hunt,  when  the  other 
will  be  found  drooping  and  inattentive. 

"  The  long,  thick  fur  of  the  Setter,  enables  him  to  wend  his 
way  through  briary  thickets  without  injury  to -himself,  when  a 
similar  attempt  on  the  part  of  a  Pointer,  would  result  in  his 
ears,  tail  and  body  being  lacerated  and  streaming  with  blood. 

"  On  the  other  hand,  the  Pointer  is  superior  to  the  Setter  in 
retaining  his  acquired  powers  for  hunting,  and  not  being  natu- 
rally enthusiastic  in  pursuit  of  game,  he  is  moi*e  easily  broken 
and  kept  in  proper  subjection. 


rrrr'f 


UPLAND   SHOOTING. 


327 


lend  liis 
Iwlien  a 
in  his 
Ibloocl. 
setter  in 
inr  natu- 
broken 


"  The  Setter  frequently  requires  a  partial  rebreaking  at  the 
commencement  of  each  season,  in  his  younger  days,  owing  to 
the  natural  eagerness  with  which  he  resumes  the  sport.  The 
necessity  of  this,  however,  diminishes  with  age,  as  the  charac- 
ter and  liahlts  of  the  dog  become  more  settled,  and  then  we  may 
take  them  into  the  field,  with  a  perfect  assurance  of  their  be- 
having quite  as  well  on  the  first  hunt  of  the  season,  as  the 
B'aunchest  P(nnter  would. 

"  The  extreme  caution,  and  mechanical  powers  of  the  Pointer 
in  the  field,  is  a  barrier  to  his  flushing  the  birds,  as  is  often  wit- 
nessed in  the  precipitate  running  of  the  Setter,  who  winds  the 
game,  and  frequently  overruns  it,  in  his  great  anxiety  to  como 
up  with  it.  But  this  occasional  fault  on  the  part  of  the  Setter, 
may  be  counterbalanced  by  the  larger  quantity  of  game  that  ho 
usually  finds  in  a  day's  hunt,  owing  to  his  enthusiasm  and  swift- 
ness of  foot.  Setters  require  much  more  water  while  hunting 
than  the  Pointer,  owing  to  their  thick  coveiing  of  fur,  encou- 
raging a  greater  amount  of  insensible  perspiration  to  fly  off' 
than  the  thin  and  short  dress  of  tlie  Pointer.  Consequently  they 
are  better  calculated  to  hunt  in  the  coldest  seasons  than  early  in 
our  falls,  which  are  fretjuently  quite  dry  and  warm. 

"  A  striking  instance  of  this  fact  came  under  our  own  imme- 
diate observation  this  fall,  when  shooting  in  a  range  of  country 
thinly  settled,  and  uncommonly  dry.  The  day  being  warm, 
and  the  birds  scarce,  the  dogs  suffi-red  greatly  from  thirst,  inso- 
much that  a  very  fine  Setter,  of  uncommon  bottom,  was  forced 
to  give  up  entirely,  completely  prostrated,  foaming  at  the  mouth 
in  the  most  alarming  manner,  breathing  heavily,  and  vomiting 
from  time  to  time  a  thick  frothy  mucus. 

"  His  prostration  of  both  muscular  and  nervous  powers  was 
so  great,  that  he  could  neither  smell  nor  take  the  slightest  notice 
of  a  bird,  although  placed  at  bis  nose.  He  could  barely  manage 
to  drag  one  leg  after  the  other,  stopping  to  rest  every  few  mo- 
ments, and  we  were  fearful  that  we  should  be  obliged  to  shoul- 
der and  caiTy  him  to  a  farm-house,  a  considerable  distance  off. 
However,  he  succeeded,  with  much  difficulty,  in  reaching  the 


'If' 


\ii 


::f 


I 


M" 


328 


FRANK    FORESTER  S    FIELD    SPORTS. 


well,  where  ho  greedily  drank  several  pints  of  water,  adiuinis- 
tcred  to  him  with  caution. 

"  He  recovered  almost  immediately,  gave  mo  a  look  of  thankf, 
and  was  off  to  the  fields  in  a  few  moments,  where  ho  soon  found 
a  fine  covey  of  birds. 

"  The  Pointer,  his  associate  in  tlio  day's  work,  and  a  much 
less  hardy  dog,  stood  the  hunt  remarkably  well,  and  seemed  to 
suffer  little  or  no  inconvenience  from  the  want  of  wafer.  The 
Setter  has  natural  claims  upon  the  sportsman  and  man  gene, 
rally,  in  his  affectionate  disposition,  ixud  attachment  to  his  mas- 
ter, and  the  many  winning  manners  he  exhibits  towards  those 
by  whom  he  is  caressed. 

"The  Pointer  displays  but  little  .fondness  for  those  by  whom 
he  is  surrounded,  and  hunts  equally  as  well  for  a  stranger  as  his 
master." 


In  this  testimony  in  behalf  of  the  Setter,  on  the  part  of  an 
American  gentleman,  of  scientific,  no  less  than  sportsmanlike 
attainments,  I  shall  add  the  following  quotation  from  "  Craven's 
Recreations  in  Shooting,"  a  very  clover  English  work — in  which, 
by  the  way,  I  find  myself  quoted,  without  credit,  as  an  American 
sportsman,  ctmcerning  our  field  sports — in  which  the  question  is 
fully  debated,  and  the  excellence  of  the  Russian  Setter  upheld 
by  competent  authority. 

"  Having  now  disposed,"  says  Craven,  "  of  that  which  by  a 
slight  license,  may  be  tonned  the  poetry  of  shooting,  before  en- 
tering upon  its  mere  household  stuff,  allusion  comes  in  aptly  to 
its  intellectual  agents.  Although  as  a  principle,  we  have  re- 
commended the  use  of  the  Pointer  in  especial  to  the  young  dis- 
ciple of  the  trigger,  the  first  place,  among  shooting  dogs,  must 
be  awarded  to  the  Setter.  In  style  and  dash  of  ranging,  in 
courage,  and  capacity  of  covering  ground  ;  in  beauty  of  form, 
and  grace  of  attitude  ;  in  variety  of  color,  and  elegance  of  cloth- 
ing, no  animal  of  his  species  will  at  all  bear  comparison  with 
him.  As  the  i-espective  merits  of  the  Pointer  and  the  Setter, 
however,  have  long  been  a  mooted  question  among  sportsmen, 


UPLAND   SHOOTING. 


329 


iby  a 
)vc  en- 
ptly  to 
ive  re- 

rr  dis- 

H,  must 
iiig,  in 
»f  form, 
f  cloth- 
on  with 
Setter, 
rtsmen, 


we  have  much  plon.suio  in  laying  beftno  the  roatlcr  tho  opinion 
on  tliia  aubjoct  of  oiio  itf  tho  most  oxperlcucod  autliorilios  in 
Engliind.  Wo  spouk  of  Mr.  Liing,  iIkj  woll-known  gunniiikor 
of  tln»  Hiiymarkut,  to  wliora  wc  uro  indobted  for  tho  subjoined 
letter  to  that  iiitorosting  incpiiry  : — 

"  '  Hiving  had  considerable  tixpericnco  in  bnjoding  from  snmo 
of  the  firsi'  kcnni'ls  in  Kngland,  Iroland,  and  Scotland — amongst 
them  those  of  tho  late  Diiko  of  Uordon,  Captain  Itoss,  Mr.  Oa- 
baldoat(»n,  and  otlun-  celobratod  sportsmen ;  and  having  also  spent 
many  yeara,  and  much  money,  in  tho  endeavor  to  produce  a  supe- 
rior description  of  Pointers  and  Setters,  an  account  of  my  pro- 
gress may  bo  useful.  I  begin  with  my  opinions  concerning 
Pointers,  by  stating  where  I  consider  them  superior,  and  where 
inferi(»r,  to  Settens. 

" '  Pointers  are  bettor  for  Partridge*  shooting,  as  they  are 
milder  in  disposition,  more  tractabli;,  and  closer  rangers  ;  tlio 
latter  a  property  of  all  others  tho  most  desirable,  if  you  want  to 
kill  birds  after  the  first  fortnight  in  tin;  season.  They  want  alao 
less  water  than  Setters,  who  often  suifer  much  in  hot  weather,  in 
districts  where  it  is  not  to  be  found.  True,  Pointers  rcijuire 
more  walking  to,  to  beat  their  ground  pro[)erly  ;  but  I  am  per- 
suaded, that  if,  instead  of  racing  through  the  middle  of  a  field, 
as  though  they  were  walking  for  a  wager,  and  thus  giving  their 
dogs  no  earthly  chance,  young  sportsmen  wi're  to  go  slower 
than  they  generally  do,  they  would  do  more  justice  to  them- 
selves, their  dogs,  and  their  preserves.  Few  Pointers  can  stand 
work  on  the  moors — where  tlie  cream  of  all  shooting  is  to  be 
had — unless  they  have  been  bred,  or  have  been  regularly  worked 
on  them.  I  know  many  gentlemen  who  greatly  prefer  them, 
when  so  bred,  to  Setters ;  but  Scotch  Pointers  are  not  so  highly 

*  It  must  be  remembered  that  this  quotation  is  from  an  English  book,  aiui 
that  the  English  Partridge  is  the  bird  spoken  of  al)ovo,  tliere  being  no  Partridge 
in  America.  The  argument  held  above,  would  be  perfectly  applicable  to  Quail 
shooting,  were  Quail  only  found  in  the  open,  but  as  they  betake  themselves,  as 
soon  as  flushed,  to  the  densest  covert,  the  Setter  is  here,  more  than  anywhere, 
iu  tho  ascendant. 


^'.! 


330 


FHANK    KonESTER's   FIELD   Sl'ORTS. 


bred  as  south-country  ilops,  ami  tlu'rcfoi*'  mmo  cnlculiitecl  for 
rougli  work.  Miiiiy  iiro  cros-scjl  with  thi"  Foxliouiul,  which 
givi's  tht'in  sptM'd  iirid  counii^c  iih  woll  n.s  liardiicsH  of  foot ;  hut 
thij  pid(hici'  (»f  tiie  fust  cross  is  ij;eiiondly  too  hii'h-irK'ttlcd  to  ho 
jumiiiffcd  with  oasu,  l)uing  diiHcuIt  tol)rc'iik  from  nuiiiiiig  Hares, 
or  to  </o«;«-ch(irgo  ;  and,  for  the  most  part,  very  hard-mouthed. 
You  may  reckon  on  six  days  out  of  every  twelve  heing  rainy 
in  the  Higlihmds  ;  tlio  wet,  and  injuries  from  hurnt  heather, 
&c.,  cause  the  Pointer  soon  to  become  foot-sore,  particuhirly 
between  the  toes,  as  he  hns  no  hair  to  protect  his  feet,  like  tlie 
Setter.  High-bred  Pointers  are  also  delicate  in  their  appetites, 
and  will  not  ^at  the  Scf)tch  meal  at  finst.  Clentlemen  should 
have  plenty  of  greaves  sent  to  their  shooting  rjuarters  to  mix 
with  it,  as  meat  can  seldom  be  had  in  the  remote  (Jrouse  coun- 
tries. They  should  give  orders  that  their  dogs  should  be  fed 
immediately  on  their  return  from  the  hills,  and  their  feet  care- 
fully washed  with  salt  and  water  :  indeed,  if  gentlemen  siiw  to 
those  things  themselves,  they  would  find  their  account  in  it, 
observing  that  such  dogs  as  would  not  feed  well  were  never 
taken  out  the  following  day.  '  A  stitch  in  time  saves  nine,'  is 
a  good  wholesome  maxim. 

"  *  I  now  proceed  to  speak  of  the  Setter.  Tie  Irish  Setters 
are  very  beautiful  both  in  and  out  of  the  field  ;  but  so  hot-head- 
ed, that  unless  alvv:iys  at  work,  and  kept  under  very  strict 
discipline,  they  constantly  spoil  sport  for  the  first  hour,  frequent- 
ly the  best  in  the  whole  day.  I  have  shot  to  many,  and  found 
them  all  pretty  much  alike.  I  had  one,  the  history  of  whose  bad 
and  good  qualities  would  fill  half-a-dozen  pages.  As  long  as  I 
kept  him  to  regular  hard  work,  a  belter  never  entered  a  field  : 
I  refused  forty  guineas  for  him,  and  shot  him  a  month  afterwards 
for  his  bad  deeds.  I  bred  from  him,  out  of  an  English  Setter 
bitcl'  ind  some  of  the  produce  turned  out  very  good ;  one  of 
them  I  shot  to  myself  for  eight  seasons  :  my  reasons  for  parting 
with  him  I  will  presently  explain.  Unless  to  throw  more  dash 
into  my  kennel,  I  should  never  be  tempted  again  to  become 
master  of  an  Irish  Setter.     Frequently,  Partridges  are  driven 


Bff.AND   SHOOTING. 


•3M 


setters 
-heatl- 
strict 
|(j\i(;nt- 
fouml 
|)sc  batl 
ki(r  as  1 
"field : 
Irwarcls 
Setter 
one  of 
[parting 
\ve  dash 
)CComii 
driven 


into  govHO  oi  low  cdviT,  in  tli  •  miiMlo  itf  tlir  day,  wliicli  fow 
Pointorrt  will  tact'.  I  kimw  it  is  nut  the  (ii-tiinn  to  nhnnl  lodni^s 
in  rover;  Init  most  tnif  Mpurtsincn  profiT  .siiodtiMy;  fun  luiicc  of 
|)iipa»(int«  to  Scltt'r.s  or  nmt»;  Spaniels,  tit  fil'fy  lirace  to  lii-atiTH. 
In  the  latter  case  you  stand  Hometimcs  an  liour  togt'tht'r  without 
jjettiii'j;  II  shot ;  and  then  they  rise  a  dozen  at  a  time,  like  harn- 
ditor  fowls,  and  as  many  arc  kilhil  in  a  few  hours  as  would  starve 
for  wi'i'ks  of  fair  shouting. 

"'In  the  snascmof  1839  I  was  asked  for  a  week's  shouting  into 
Somersetshire,  hy  an  old  friend,  whose  scienct^  in  everything 
conni'cteil  with  shooting  is  first-rate.  Then,  tor  the  first  tiino 
for  many  years,  I  had  my  dogs,  English  Setters,  beaten  hollow. 
His  hrt  ed  was  from  pun?  Russian  Setters,  crossed  hy  an 
English  Setter  dog,  which  some  years  ago  made  a  sensation  in 
the  sporting  world,  from  liis  extraordinary  performances  ;  he 
belonged  to  the  late  Joseph  Manton,  and  had  been  sold  for  a 
hundred  guineas.  Although  I  could  iir>t  but  remark  the  excel- 
lence of  my  friend's  dogs,  yet  it  struck  me,  iis  I  had  shot  over 
my  own  old  favorite  Setter — wlio  had  himself  beat  many  gcjod 
ones,  and  never  b»>fore  been  beaten — for  eight  years,  that  hia 
nose  could  not  have  been  right,  for  the  Russians  got  three  points 
to  his  one.  I  therefore  rescdved  to  try  some  others  against 
them  the  next  season  ;  and  having  heard  a  gentleman,  well 
known  as  an  excellent  judge,  speak  of  a  brace  of  extraordinary 
dogs  he  had  seen  in  the  neighborhood  of  Ins  Yorkshire  moors, 
with  his  recommendation  I  purchased  them.  T  shot  to  them  in 
August  1840,  and  their  beauty  and  style  of  jierformance  were 
spoken  of  in  terms  of  praise  by  a  correspondent  to  a  sporting 
paper.  In  September  I  took  them  into  Somersetshire,  fully 
anticipating  that  I  should  give  the  Russians  the  go-by;  but  I 
was  again  disappointed.  I  fi)und,  from  the  wide  ranging  of  my 
dogs,  and  the  noise  consequent  upon  their  going  so  fast  through 
stubbles  and  turnips — particularly  in  the  middle  of  the  day, 
when  the  sun  was  powerfid,  aiul  there  was  but  little  scent — that 
they  constantly  put  up  their  birds  out  of  distance ;  or,  if  they 
did  get  a  point,  that  the  game  would  rarely  lie  till  we  could  gef 


I'     ! 


i  k  1 

H 


332 


FKANK   forester's    FIELD   SI'ORTS. 


!  i 


to  it.  The  llussians,  on  the  contrary,  bcinji  much  closer 
rangers,  quartering  their  ground  steadily — bends  and  tails  up — 
and  possessing  perfection  of  nose,  in  exUeme  lieat,  wet,  or  cold, 
enabled  us  to  bag  double  the  head  of  game  that  mine  did. 
Nor  did  they  lose  one  solitary  wounded  bird  ;  whereas,  with 
my  own  dogs,  I  lost  six  brace  the  first  two  days'  Paitridge 
8hof)ting,  the  most  of  them  in  standing  corn. 

"'  My  old  friend  and  patron,  having  met  with  a  severe  acci- 
dent while  hunting,  determined  to  go  to  Scotland  for  the  next 
three  years.  Seeing  that  my  dogs  were  well  calcidated  for 
Grouse  shooting,  as  they  had  been  broken  and  shot  to  on  the 
moors,  and  being  aware  of  my  anxiety  to  jiossess  the  breed  of 
his  Russians,  he  very  kindly  offered  to  exchange  them  for  mine, 
with  a  promise  I  would  preseiTO  a  brace  of  Russian  puppies 
for  him.  Although  I  had  refused  fifty  guineas  for  my  brace,  I 
most  gladly  closed  with  his  offer.  Since  then  I  have  hunted 
them  in  company  with  several  dogs  of  high  character,  but 
nothing  that  I  have  yet  seen  could  equal  them.  If  not  taken 
out  foi  six  months,  they  are  perfectly  steady,  which  is  a  quality 
rarely  to  be  met  with.  Every  sportsman  must  know,  that  the 
fewer  dogs  be  can  do  bis  work  with  projierly,  the  better;  for 
if  they  arc  in  condition,  they  cannot  be  too  frequently  hunted  ; 
and  their  tempers,  style  of  working,  &c.,  become  more  familiar 
to  him.  On  this  the  whole  comfort  of  shooting  depends.  Upon 
these  (jiounds  I  contend  that,  for  all  kinds  of  shooting  theiefore 
thei-e  is  nothing  equal  to  the  Russian,  or  half-bred  Russian  Set- 
ter, in  nose,  sagacity,  and  every  other  qualification  that  a  dog 
ought  to  possess.  It  may  appear  an  exaggeration,  but  it  is 
my  opinion,  in  which  I  am  supported  by  many  of  the  first 
sportsmen  in  England,  that  there  is  not  one  keeper  in  fifty  that 
knows  liovv'  to  manage  and  break  a  dog  efficiently.  It  is  a 
common  jiractice  for  keejiers  to  take  their  dogs  out  for  an  hour 
or  two,  twice  or  thrice  a  week,  morning  or  evening,  just  before 
the  commencement  of  the  season — what  would  be  thought  of 
training  a  horse  in  that  way,  for  a  race  over  the  flat,  or  a  stee- 
ple-chase 1     Hard  and  constant  work  is  as  necessary  for  a  dog, 


,,,^--,.^^^»^_ 


UPLAND    SHOOTING. 


333 


dog 


that  has  to  hunt  from  morning  to  night,  and  freciuently  foi 
several  successive  days,  as  for  a  race-horse.  He  should  be 
taken  out  two  or  three  hours  daily,  in  the  middle  of  the  day,  to 
use  him  to  the  heat,  for  three  or  four  weeks  before  the  season 
begins ;  and  let  me  observe  in  conclusion  ;  that  if  his  master 
were  to  adopt  a  similar  course,  he  would  have  good  cause  to 
rejoice  in  the  precaution  before  the  end  of  his  first  week's 
shooting.' 

"  Another  gentleman,  a  large  breeder  of  sporting  dogs,  thus 
answered  our  queries  ar  to  the  kind  of  animal  best  suited  to  the 
general  purpose  of  shooting  : — 

"  '  T  have  tried  all  sorts,  and,  at  last,  fixed  upon  a  well-bred 
Setter  as  the  most  useful.  I  say  well-bred,  for  not  many  of 
the  dogs  with  feathered  sterns,  which  one  sees  now-a-days,  are 
worthy  the  name  of  Setter.  Pohiter  fanciers  object  to  Setters 
on  account  of  their  requiring  more  water ;  but  there  are  gene- 
rally sufficient  springs  and  ])eat-holes  on  the  moors  for  them  ; 
and,  even  in  the  early  part  of  September,  a  horse-pond  or  ditch 
is  to  be  met  with  often  enough.  For  cover,  or  Snipe-shooting, 
the  Setter  is  far  superior,  facing  the  thorns  in  the  cover,  and  the 
wet  in  the  bogs,  without  coming  to  heel,  shivering  like  a  pig  in 
the  ague.  I  have  always  found,  too,  that  Setters,  when  well 
broke,  are  finer  tempered,  and  not  so  easily  cowed  as  Pointers. 
Should  they  get  an  unlucky  undeserved  kick,  Don,  the  Setter, 
wags  his  tail,  and  forgets  it  much  sooner  than  Carlo,  the 
Pointer.  My  shooting  lying  near  the  moors,  takes  in  every 
description  of  country,  and  I  always  find  that,  after  a  good 
rough  day,  the  Setter  will  out-tire  the  Pointer,  though,  perhaps, 
not  start  quite  so  flash  in  the  morning. 

"  '  1  always  teach  nnr,  at  least,  of  my  dogs  to  bring  his  game, 
which  saves  a  world  of  trouble,  both  in  and  out  of  covci-,  but 
never  allow  him  to  stir  for  the  bird  until  after  loadincr.  Should 
any  of  these  remarks  prove  of  service,  I  shall  feel  most  happy 
in  having  assisted  a  brother  sportsman.'  " 

To  this  I  will  only  add,  that  1  have  both  seen  and  owned 
Setters,  which  on  the  first  day  of  the  season  were  as  steady  and 


^     !!sl 


!iM 


334 


FRANK   forester's    FIELD   SPORTS. 


as  perfectly  under  commaml,  as  on  the  last ;  that  I  have  seen 
them  tried,  day  in  and  day  out,  for  weeks  together,  with  the 
most  admirai)le  imported  Pointers,  and  that  they  proved  always 
equal  tf»  them ;  in  late  Snipe-shooting,  when  the  water  is  cold 
and  skimmed  with  ice,  or  in  autumn  shooting  in  thoniy  and 
briary  covert,  they  beat  them  out  of  sight. 

I  may  mention  here  a  brace  which  I  j)ossessed,  and  over 
which  I  shot  eight  seasons,  never  allowing  any  person  to  hunt 
them  on  a  single  occasion  after  their  leaving  the  breaker's  hands, 
except  myself,  and  keeping  them  at  steady  work.  One  was  a 
liver  and  white  English  dog,  broke  by  Mr.  Sandford,  of  New- 
Jersey,  whom  I  have  mentioned  before  ;  the  other  a  red  Irish 
Setter,  with  a  white  ring  and  four  white  stockings,  broke  by 
Dilke.  They  were  both  undeniable  dogs,  but  the  liver  and 
white  was  the  best  retriever  I  ever  saw.  The  test  of  their  ex- 
cellence is  in  the  fact  that  in  1 836,  the  late  Mr.  Peter  G.  Barker, 
of  New- York  offered  me,  and  I  refused,  eight  hundred  dollars 
for  the  brace.  They  had  cost  me  two  hundred,  and  I  had  shot 
over  them  four  seasons  afterward,  when  the  price  was  bid. 
I  have  only  farther  to  say  that  I  never  regretted  the  refusal,  as 
I  never  saw  in  all  respects  a  brace  of  dogs  so  perfect. 

I  shall  now  proceed  to  the  Pointer. 


THE     POINTER. 

It  is  conceded  that  this  animal  is  the  offspring  of  the  two 
ancient  races  known  as  sagaccs,  or  intelligent,  and  pugnaces  or 
liellicoxi,  or  warlike,  and  I  am  inclined  to  think,  myself,  that  his 
share  of  tlie  latter  blood,  i?  even  greater  than  is  generally  im- 
agined. His  intelligence,  except  so  far  as  indicated  by  his 
power  of  scenting  his  game,  is  of  rather  a  low  order,  and  though 
docile  and  easily  commanded,  he  is  not  generally  sagacious,  or 
affectionate.  Neither  his  temper  nor  other  qualities,  except  in 
the  field,  gi-eatly  recommend  him  |  but  for  the  steady  pursuit  of 


UPLAND    SHOOTING. 


336 


seen 
I  the 
ways 
i  cold 
y  and 

over 
3  lintit 
hands, 

was  a 

New- 
id  Irish 
oke  by 
rer  and 
lieir  cx- 
Barkcr, 
I  dollars 
had  shot 
vas  bid. 

\isal,  as 


the  two 

gnaces  or 
that  his 

jrally  im- 
d  by  bis 
,d  though 
acious,  or 
except  in 
pursuit  of 


Ilia  game  in  the  open  pliiin,  his  great  caution  in  not  over- 
ranning  it,  liis  great  capacities  of  enduring  heat  and  thirst, 
and  liis  retentive  memory  of  what  he  has  been  taught,  unqual- 
ified by  any  headstrong  or  Impetuous  dash,  render  him,  for  the 
pursuit  of  some  species  of  animals  and  for  some  localities, 
unrivalled.  Of  the  latter  there  are  few  in  this  country.  The 
sandy  Grouse  barrens  of  Long  Island,  Martha's  Vineyard  and 
the  New-Jersey  Pino-grounds,  while  thei'o  were  Grouse  on 
them,  were  well  adapted  to  the  display  of  his  peculiar  and  char- 
acteristic excellencies.  The  Grouse  mountains  of  Pennsylvania 
are  so  rocky  and  so  much  beset  with  stubs  that  his  bare  feet, 
unless  protected  with  buckskin  boots,  through  which  the  claws 
must  be  suffered  to  protrude,  will  not  enable  him  to  bear  the 
wear  and  tear  of  daily  work.  Some  of  the  western  praries, 
which  are  dri/  and  deficient  of  water,  are  well  suited  for  him, 
as  in  Wisconsin  and  parts  of  Michigan  ;  and  there,  he  is  prized, 
and  deservedly. 

Of  this  animal  there  are  two  breeds,  separate  and  conspicuous, 
of  which  all  the  others  are  varieties,  and  none  of  the  latter  suf- 
ficiently peculiar  or  different  either  in  appearance  or  qualifica- 
tions to  merit  any  especial  description  or  notice. 

These  two  breeds  are  the  Old  Spanish  Pointer,  which  is  the 
origin  and  type  of  the  race,  and  the  improved,  or  English 
Pointer.  Of  the  former,  the  Portuguese,  and  of  tlie  latter,  (he 
French  Pointer,  are  coarser  and  inferior  varieties, — all  the 
points  attributed  to  the  last-named  dog  as  characteristic, 
namely,  large  head,  pendent  ears,  and  thick  tail,  being  common 
to  every  coarse,  ill-bred  English  dog. 

"  The  Spanish  Pointer,"  says  Mr.  Youait,  "  originally  a 
native  of  Spain,  was  once  considered  to  be  a  valuable  dog.  He 
stood  higher  on  his  legs,  but  was  too  large  and  heavy  in  his 
limbs,  and  had  widely  spread  ugly  feet,  exposing  him  to  fre- 
quent lameness.  His  muzzle  and  head  were  large,  correspond- 
ing with  the  acuteness  of  his  smell.  His  ears  were  large  and 
pendent,  and  his  body  ill-formed.  He  was  naturally  an  ill-tem- 
pered dog,  growling  at  the  hand  that  would  caress  him,  even 
VOL.  I.  24 


i  I 


336 


FRANK   forester's   FIELD    SPORTS. 


i  ;  ; 


although  it  were  his  master's.  He  stood  steadily  to  his  birds  ; 
but  it  was  difficult  to  break  him  of  chasing  the  Hare.  He  was 
deficient  in  speed.  His  redeeming  quality  was  his  excellent 
scent,  unequalled  in  any  other  kind  of  dog. 

"  To  convince  our  readers  of  the  value  of  this  particular 
breed,  we  may  mention  the  very  singular  sale  of  Col.  Thornton's 
dog  Dash,  who  was  purchased  by  Sir  Richard  Symons  for  one 
hundred  and  sixty  pounds'  worth  of  Champagne  and  Burgtindy, 
a  hogshead  of  Claret,  and  an  elegant  gun  and  another  Pointer, 
with  a  stipulation  that  if  any  accident  befell  the  dog,  he  was  to 
be  returned  to  his  former  owner  for  fifty  guineas.  Dash  unfor- 
tunately broke  his  leg,  and  in  accordance  with  the  agreement 
of  sale,  was  returned  to  the  Colonel,  who  considered  him  a  for- 
tunate acquisition  as  a  stallion  to  breed  from.  See  Blain  or 
Daniel." 

This  animal,  which  was  once  considered  very  valuable,  is  now 
entirely  superseded  by  the  improved,  or  English  dogs.  He  was 
often  what  is  vulgarly  called  douhle-nosed,  having  a  deep  fur- 
row between  the  nostrils;  and  to  this  peculiarity,  I  have  heard 
the  excellence  of  their  scenting  powers  attributed,  of  course  ab- 
surdly. Mr.  Youatt,  on  the  contrary,  I  am  surprised  to  see,  at- 
tributes tJie  deficiencij  of  the  same  powers,  in  a  certain  French 
breed,  having  the  like  deformity,  to  the  same  cause.  I  quite 
agree  with  Dr.  Lewis,  in  regarding  any  such  reascm,  whether 
for  good  or  evil  qualities,  as  wholly  visionary. 

Ugliness,  want  of  speed,  and  ill  temper,  are  causes  which 
have  banished  the  Spanish  Pointer  from  the  kennel  of  the  true 
sportsman.  More  of  the  blood  is  to  be  found  in  the  Pointer 
commoidy  used  in  this  country,  than  in  the  English  breed,  the 
points  and  characteristics  of  which  are  well  laid  down  as  follows, 
by  Dr.  Lewis. 

"  The  English  Pointer  will  now  claim  more  particularly  our 
attention.  It  is  quite  useless  to  go  into  a  general  description  of 
an  animal  of  whom  we  have  already  said  much,  and  with  whom 
we  are  all  familiar  ;  but  we  will  endeavor  to  mention  the  most 
striking  points  of  the  species,  which  marks  can  be  referred  to  as 
guide?  in  the  ourchase  of  a  dog. 


UPLAND    SHOOTING. 


337 


wbicb 

the  true 

Pointer 

reed,  the 

;  follows, 


'•  It  is  a  difficult  matter  to  put  on  paper,  in  a  manner  satisfac- 
tory either  to  the  reader  or  writer,  the  jieculiarities  of  any  ani- 
mal,  wliereby  he  may  judged  pure  or  mixed.  However,  there 
are,  generally,  some  few  points  in  each  species,  that  can  be  se- 
lected as  proofs  of  their  genuineness  and  ability  to  peifoiTO  cer- 
tain actions  peculiar  to  the  race. 

"  But,  afier  all,  more  reliance  must  be  placed  upon  tlie  good 
faith  of  the  seller,  or  tlie  previous  knowledge  of  the  strain  from 
wliicli  the  purchaser  selects' — and  what  is  better  than  eitiier, 
from  lictual  observation  in  the  field ;  ail  of  which  precautions 
may,  nevertheless,  prove  abortive,  and  our  dog  be  worthless. 

"  As  regards  the  size  of  tlie  English  Pointer,  we  may  say, 
that  he  averages  in  length  about  tliree  feet,  from  the  tip  of  the 
muzzle  to  tlie  base  of  the  tail,  and  from  twenty-two  to  twenty- 
six  inches  high.  His  head  not  bulky,  nor  too  narrow,  the  fron- 
tal sinuses  largely  developed. 

"  The  muzzle  long,  and  rather  tapering,  the  nostrils  large 
and  well  open,  the  ear  slightly  erect,  not  over  long,  and  the  tip 
triangular;  if  too  jiendent,  large  and  rounded  at  the  tip,  there 
is  too  much  of  the  hound  present.  The  eyes  lively,  but  not  too 
prominent ;  the  neck  rather  long,  and  not  over  thick,  the  chest 
broad,  the  limbs  large  and  muscular;  the  paws  strong,  bard, 
and  wide.  The  body  and  loins  thin,  rather  than  bulky,  the  hind 
quarters  broad,  and  the  limlis  in  tlie  same  proportion  with  the 
fore  members;  the  tail  long  and  tapering." 

To  this  there  is  very  little  to  be  added,  except  that  the  higher 
the  breed,  the  shorter,  tlije  sleeker,  and  the  more  satiny  tlie  skin, 
and  the  thinner  the  ear.  Any  tendency  to  long  hair  about  the 
stern  or  legs,  hints  loudly  at  a  Setter  cross,  which  imjiroves  nei- 
ther the  temper  nor  the  (jualities  ot  the  dog. 

Like  Setteis,  Pointers  are  of  all  colors,  and  I  know  not  that 
any  color  has  the  pi'eference  ;  but  as  in  the  Setter  I  should  dis- 
trust liver  color,  which  I  regard  as  properly  a  Pointer  color,  so 
in  the  Pointer  I  look  with  susp  cion  on  red  or  yellow,  that  being 
a  Setter  or  Spaniel  tint.  There  is  a  very  pure  and  high  strain 
of  Pointers,  principally  white,  with  liver-colored  ears  and  faces, 


1;:  ■, 


M 


•<i\ 


338 


FRANK    forester's   FIELD    SPORTS. 


'  ! 


having  a  light  tan  spot  over  each  eye,  and  a  tan  shadowing 
round  the  muzzle,  and  a  few  liver  spots  on  the  body.  No  tint 
is  prcforable  to  this.  Black  aad  tan  is  an  undeniable,  though 
uncommon  color  for  the  Pointer,  coming  probably  from  Fox- 
hound blood ;  and  pure  black  dogs  arc  frequent  and  good.  I  dis- 
like a  black  and  white  spotted  Pointer,  it  has  a  currish  look,  to 
say  the  least  of  it. 

The  more  highly  bred  any  animal  is,  the  better  he  will  be, 
I  believe,  in  all  respects.  The  Pointer's  skin  becomes  infi- 
nitely tendei'er,  and  his  whole  frame  more  delicate  and  fine- 
drawn, by  high  breeding;  but  so  much  docs  he  gain  thereby, 
in  pluck  and  courage,  that  I  have  seen  pure-blooded  dogs  of  this 
strain  tearing  their  way  thi'ough  cat-briar  brakes,  literally  bleed- 
ing at  every  pore,  and  whimpering  with  pain,  while  great, 
coarse-bred,  hairy  brutes,  of  six  times  their  apparent  power  of 
frame,  and  capacities  of  endurance,  slunk  away  like  curs,  as 
they  were,  unable  to  face  the  thorns. 

In  every  animal,  from  the  man,  in  whom  I  believe  it  tells  the 
most,  down  to  the  bullock  and  the  Berkshire  hog,  I  am  an  im- 
plicit believer  in  the  efficacy  of  blood  and  breeding  to  develop  all 
qualities,  especially  courage  to  do,  and  courage  to  bear — as  well 
as  to  produce  the  highest  and  most  delicate  nei-vous  organiza- 
tion ;  and  I  would  as  willingly  have  a  cur  in  my  shooting  ken- 
nel, as  a  mule  in  my  racing  stable,  if  I  had  one. 

I  will  now  proceed  to  notice  briefly,  as  becomes  the  scanti- 
ness of  his  use  in  this  country, 


THE    COCKING    SPANIEL. 


This  beautiful,  intelligent,  and  useful  dog,  which,  \[]:3  the 
Pointer,  is,  as  his  name  indicates,  probably  of  Spanish  origin,  is 
very  little  known  or  used  in  this  country,  except  as  a  pet  and 
plaything  for  ladies ;  and  yet  there  is  no  country  in  the  world 
for  which,  from  the  great  prevalence  of  woodland  over  open 


"^f 


UPLAND    SHOOTING. 


339 


[owing 

Slo  tint 

tlu)Ugll 

Ti  Fux- 
.  Idis- 
ook,  to 

will  be, 
les  infi- 
nd  fine- 
thereby, 

rs  of  tlli3 

ly  bleed- 
[e  groat, 
powci'  of 
!  curs,  as 

t  tells  the 
im  an  im- 
ovelop  all 
— as  Nvell 
organiza- 
jting  ken- 
he  scanti- 


ir,:3  the 

|h  origin,  ia 

a  pet  and 

the  world 

over  open 


ehooting,  the  great  thickness  and  seveiity  of  the  covert,  and  the 
peculiar  species  of  game,  it  would  be  more  useful.  There  are 
many  varieties  of  this  beautiful,  active,  and  industrious  little 
dog,  but  the  best  and  most  adapted  for  tliis  country  is  tlie  large 
Cocking  Spaniel,  or  Spnng(;r,  which  is  found  in  the  greatest 
perfection  in  Sussex. 

This  dog,  which  is  probably  the  original  stock  of  the  Setter, 
cannot  be  better  described  than  as  resembling  a  Setter,  in  the 
same  degree  as  a  punchy,  powe/ful,  short-legged  pony,  resem- 
bles a  well-bred  horse.  It  is  very  strong  and  bony  for  its  size, 
and  has  great  industry,  indefatigable  spirit,  and  indomitable  cou- 
rage— nay  !  its  faults  partake  of  these  latter  qualities,  as  it  is 
wont  to  be  rash,  impetuous,  and  headstrong.  One  of  the  great- 
est drawbacks  to  its  excellence  in  England,  would  not  exist  in 
this  country ;  I  mean  its  propensity  to  chase  Hares,  which 
abound  in  many  preserves  there  to  such  a  degret;,  that  they  are 
bouncing  up  at  every  step,  and  the  Spanii'ls  are  yelping  and 
yaffing  after  them  all  the  time.  Here  the  Hare  is  comparatively 
a  rare  animal,  and  in  this  respect  the  temptation  of  the  Spaniel 
to  wildness,  would  be  very  greatly  diminished  in  the  United 
States,  or  in  Canada. 

The  head  of  the  Spaniel,  and  especially  the  nose,  is  propor- 
tionably  much  shorter  than  that  of  the  Setter,  the  frontal  sinuses 
more  fully  developed,  the  eye  larger  and  more  prominent,  the 
ears  much  longer  and  more  curly,  some  so  long  that  they  lite- 
rally seem  as  if  they  were  intended  "  to  sweep  away  the  morn- 
ing dew." 

Their  coats  are  altogether  longer,  and  more  curly,  the  tails  not 
merely  feathered,  but  bushy,  and  the  legs  thickly  fringed,  even  to 
the  toes. 

These  dogs  are  of  all  colors,  but  I  prefer  the  Blenheim  color, 
rich  orange  and  white,  with  a  full  moist  eye,  and  coal-black  nose 
and  palate. 

They  require  great  steadiness,  and  constant  attention,  both  in 
the  breaking,  and  the  hunting  when  broken  ;  but  firmness,  cou- 
pled with  general  mildness,  and  constancy  of  temper,  with  occa- 


M 


•i  «■ 


340 


FRANK    forester's    FIELD   SPORTS. 


eional  severity,  will  easily  prevail,  and  render  them  nearly  per 
feet. 

As  they  flush  their  game  immediately,  without  standing  or 
crouching,  it  is  absolutely  necessary  that  they  should  he  under 
perfect  command  ;  they  must  never  be  above  ten  or  fifteen  paces 
distant  from  the  gun,  and  tliey  must  bo  trained,  until  it  has  be- 
come their  second  nature  and  instinct,  to  slacken  their  pace,  in- 
stead of  inci'oasing  it,  when  they  strike  the  trail  of  game,  which 
the  sportsman  will  learn  by  their  yelp,  or,  if  they  be  of  the  mute 
kind,  by  the  redoubled  feathering  and  flourishing  of  his  bushy 
tail,  and  by  an  occasional  low,  impatient  whimper. 

This,  and  to  drop  to  shot,  the  instant  the  gun  is  discharged,  is 
all  they  have  necessarily  to  learn  ;  although  it  is  a  great  addition 
to  their  worth,  if  they  are  broke  to  retrieve  their  game,  when 
ordered  to  go  on,  after  having  dropped  to  "  charge."  This 
dropping  to  charge,  of  infinite  importance  with  all  dogs,  is  even 
more  important  with  the  Springer,  or  Cocking  Spaniel,  than 
with  the  Pointer,  or  Setter;  for,  whereas  the  latter  are  tauglit 
both  by  their  instinct  and  their  breaking,  to  stand  or  set  their 
gami',  there  is  some  chance  tluit,  if  they  do  break  in  after  shot, 
they  will  still  point  anything  on  which  they  may  chance  to  blun- 
der, while  the  Spaniel  being  broke  to  flush,  if  he  stir  at  all,  will 
indubitably  run  up  everything  that  crosses  his  path. 

For  summer  or  autumn  Cock  shooting,  for  Qiiail  shooting  in 
heavy  covert,  and  for  Ruffed  Grouse  shooting,  I  am  satisfied 
that  these  little  beauties  would  be  invaluable  in  this  country  ; 
and  that  in  many  districts  twice  as  many  head  of  game  might 
be  killed  over  them,  in  the  same  space  of  time,  as  over  any 
other  kind  of  dog. 

I  have  often  wondered  at  the  neglect  of  this  variety  by  sports- 
men of  this  country,  never  having  met  but  three  gentlemen,  two 
in  the  States  and  one  in  Canada,  who  used  them.  I  hope  to 
succeed  in  importing  a  brace  of  highly-bred,  and  well-broke 
Springers,  of  the  large  breed,  this  autumn,  and  to  establish  the 
breed.  Should  I  be  fortunate  in  my  endeavors,  it  will  be  a 
source  of  much  pleasure  to  me  to  accommodate  sportsmen  de- 


UPLAND    SHOOTING. 


:mi 


Birous  of  trying  the  experiment  with  some  of  the  progeny,  anJ 
with  my  best  advice  and  instructions  as  to  tlieir  management 
and  use. 

Having  thus  disposed  of  the  throe  species  of  dog  used  in  Up- 
land shooting,  I  shall  proceed  shortly  to  lay  down  a  few  plain 
and  general  rules,  for  tlu;ir  treatment  in  the  kennel  and  the 
held,  their  condition,  breaking,  and  some  of  their  more  ordinary 
and  dangerous  diseases,  and  then  pass  onward  to  fowl  shooting 
on  the  shores  of  the  Atlantic. 


KENNEL    MANAGEMENT, 


The  first  point  in  kennel  management  is  the  kennel  itself,  and, 
for  a  person  keeping  several  dogs,  the  best  and  most  suitable  to 
this  country  is  an  enclosure  of  pickets,  sufficiently  high  to  ren- 
der it  impf)ssible  for  dogs  even  to  attempt  to  leap  over  them, 
surrounding  a  space  of  ground  the  larger  the  better,  as  the  dogs 
will  then  have  room  enough  to  run  at  speed,  and  to  play  toge- 
ther, which  is  undoubtedly  conducive  to  health.  This  space 
should  be  gravelled,  or  strewed  with  fine  sand,  and  if  it  could 
be  so  contrived  as  to  have  a  channel  of  water  running  through 
it,  that  would  be  a  great  addition,  both  to  the  health  and  com- 
fort of  the  dogs. 

Along  (me  side  or  end  of  this  place  should  be  a  shed,  closed 
at  the  back  and  ends,  with  a  shingle  roof,  at  least  ten  feet  deep, 
so  as  to  aflbrd  a  comjilete  shelter  from  snow,  rain,  and  sun- 
shine. This  shed,  which  slH)uld  be  open  in  front,  must  be 
floored  with  plank,  with  a  moderate  inclination,  so  as  to  allow 
any  moisture  to  drain  ott'  readily.  The  opening  should  face  the 
south.  Along  the  back  of  this  shed  should  be  ranged  a  row  of 
ordinary  dog-houses  of  pine  plank,  one  for  each  dog.  These 
should  have  no  bottoms,  that  they  may  be  removed,  and  the 
boards  scoured  beneath,  from  time  to  time.  They  should  not  be 
less  than  three  feet  in  length,  by  two  in  breadth,  and  two  feet 
high  at  the  eaves,  by  three  at  the  ridge.     The  smaller  the  aper- 


a42 


FKANK    FORESTKR  S    FIKLD    SPORTS. 


ir 


tiiit  uie  better,  provided  it  is  big  enough  to  allow  the  iiigresa 
and  egress  of  the  dog.  The  inside  sliould  be  whitcswashed,  and 
the  very  best  Ited  that  can  be  devised  is  fine  pines  shavings,  as  it 
is  as  soft  and  warm  as  any,  and  tlie  turpentine  which  it  con- 
tains is  the  surest  of  all  antidotes  against  vermin. 

For  persons  living  in  towns,  not  having  tlio  command  of 
spoce,  or  kecsping  but  a  single  dog,  the  movable  dog-house,  such 
as  I  have  described,  placed  on  a  plank  platlbrm,  and  liiiving  a 
post  annexed,  to  which  the  dog  may  be  chained,  will  answer  the 
purpose,  though  if  a  dog  is  kept  constantly  chained  up,  iie 
should  have  regular  exercise.  If  such  a  kennel  as  I  have  raeii- 
tioned  be  used,  each  dog  should  at  first  be  chained  to  a  sti  pie 
adjoining  his  own  house,  to  which  ho  will  soon  become  so  per- 
fectly accustomed,  that  he  will  never  attempt  to  enter  that  of 
his  neighbor;  and  if  ihey  are  watched  at  first,  and  punished  if 
they  (piarrel,  they  will  live  harmoniously  enough  ;  provided  al- 
ways, that  no  bones  or  scraps  of  food  be  ever  siiflered  to  remain 
in  the  kennel  to  breed  conftMil  ion,  nnd  that  nouoof  the  fair  sex — 
to  dogs,  as  to  men,  Mcrri/na  hdli  causa — be  allowed  to  be  at 
large  among  the  males,  in  those  seasons  when  they  are  most  ob- 
noxious to  addresses.  Setters  are  much  less  quarrelsome  than 
Pointers,  but  steadiness  and  firmneds  will  keep  peace  even 
among  the  latter. 

It  is  unnecessary  to  say  that  the  kennel,  whether  for  one  or 
many  dogs,  cannot  be  kept  too  scrupulously  clean ;  as  the  least  col- 
lection of  dirt  not  only  renders  the  animal  uncomfortable  to  him- 
self, and  offensive  to  others,  but  prcjmotes  humors,  and  is  a  mov- 
inf  cause  of  some  of  the  worst  dis(»rdcrs. 

Where  it  is  not  found  prac^ticable  to  have  a  channel  of  run- 
ning water  through  the  kennel,  each  dog  should  be  provided  at 
all  times  with  his  own  large  earihcn  pan  of  water,  which  should 
be  kept  continually  fresh  and  renewed  ;  and  in  each  pan  there 
should  be  at  all  seasons  a  piece  of  bar  brimstone,  but  especially 
in  summer.  This,  acting  as  an  alterative  and  gentle  purgative, 
will  keep  the  bowels  in  good  condition,  cool  the  blood,  and  pre- 
eei've  the  softness  of  the  coat. 


UPLAND  SHOOTING. 


343 


1,  imtl 

,88  it 

;  con- 

kI  of 
},  such 
v'lng  a 

up,  iie 

i  staple 
so  per- 
tlmt  of 
isbccl  if 
idod  al- 
)  remain 
ir  sex — 
o  be  at 
Tiost  ob- 
me  than 
ce  even 

one  or 

east  col- 

e  to  bim- 

19  a  mov- 

of  run- 
)vi(lc(l  at 
b  shouUl 
pan  tbere 

pecially 
nirgative, 
,  and  pre- 


It  will  be  found  an  excellent  plan  to  feed  all  the  dogs,  if  ae- 
vfral,  at  once,  froin  one  lung  common  trougli,  in.o  wliicli  the 
food  should  bo  poured,  in  regular  order,  and  the  di»gs  then  called 
out  one  by  one,  by  name,  from  their  bouses,  to  which  ihoy 
should  previously  be  compelled  o  retire,  and  none  sutl'ered  to 
approach  until  so  summoned.  The  feeder  shou  d  stand  over 
them,  while  feeding,  with  a  switch,  and  ihe  firs  growl,  or  indi- 
cation of  an  attempt  to  (piarrel,  should  be  puiiisiied  wiih  a  smart 
cut;  any  voracity,  in  like  manner,  can  be  checked  or  mode- 
rated by  a  word;  and  if  any  dog  ea  so  ravenously,  as  io  gel 
more  than  his  share,  he  must  be  cpiietly,  but  fuinly,  called  off, 
and  ordered  to  his  own  kennel.  By  this  method,  order,  regu- 
larity, and  obedience,  will  he  greatly  increased  in  the  kennel ; 
and,  what  is  of  more  importance,  the  general  good  humor  and 
good  understanding  of  the  dogs  will  bo  greatly  promored,  so 
that  if,  as  may  often  become  necessary,  as,  for  instance,  In  tra- 
velling on  board  steamboats,  or  in  other  [)laces  where  accom- 
modation is  difficult  and  scanty,  you  shoidd  be  compelled  to  feed 
your  dogs  out  of  one  vessel,  they  will  eat  together  cheerl'uUy 
and  agreeably,  and  lie  down  to  get  tlieu*  rist  as  good  friends, 
instead  of  fighting  a  pitclied  battle  over  the  plate,  and  growling 
at  one  another  all  night  long,  instead  of  going  j^eaceably  to 
sleep. 

Attention  to  litt  e  matters  of  this  kind  is  of  great  real  imjior- 
tance.  A  fight  between  a  brace  of  dogs,  may  deprive  the  owner 
of  the  services  of  one,  or  both,  for  half  a  dozen  consi.'cutive  days  ; 
and  so  destroy  the  sport  of  a  week,  on  which  he  has  counted, 
and  for  which  bo  bas,  perhaps,  incurred  considerable  trouble 
and  expense.  Even  the  loss  of  a  nights  rest  will  render  dogs 
peevish,  deprive  them  of  their  noses,  and  make  them  dull  and 
listless  during  half  a  day.  The  subject  of  feeding  is  of  great 
importance,  and  of  it  I  shall  treat  somewhat  at  length,  after  ob- 
serving that  frequent  washing  and  bathing  is  of  exceeding  bene- 
fit to  dogs  in  fine  weather,  when  they  have  suitable  conve- 
niences lor  drying  themselves.  After  a  swim,  or  a  bard  day's 
shooting  in  snow,  or  in  marshes,  a  good  wheaten  straw  bed  is  the 


i  '^ 


344 


rnANK    FonESTEtl's   FIELD   SPOUTS. 


bout  roHturutivo ;  iind  tliat  ih  tlio  only  time  wlicti  I  upprove  iS 
straw  I'ur  u  butl,  uh  it  id  huutiiig,  luid  iius  ti  Htroiig  tuiuUtiu-y  to 
harbor  vcnniii.  To  curry  a  dog,  or  comb  him  witli  a  horsis's 
mam;  comb,  ami  thuii  brush  him  tliorouglily,  will  bu  fouiul  to 
contribute  to  hiu  cleanliucsH,  comfort,  ami  health,  in  a  tar  higher 
degree,  than  the  trouble  of  seeing  it  done  will  incommode  the 
sportsman.  A  little  method,  and  the  regular  observance  of 
hours,  will  render  all  these  things  easy,  and  they  will  snun  come 
to  be  regarded  by  the  servant  as  matters  of  every  day  occur- 
rence, and  ns  such  to  bo  done,  and  the  trouble  disregarded. 

With  regard  to  feeding,  a  question  on  which  very  much  of  the 
condition,  and  not  a  little  of  the  oli'actory  powers  of  the  dog, 
Mr.  lilaine  in  his  grc;it  work  on  Canine  I'a.hology,  asks  the  fol- 
lowing (juestion,  and  proceeds  Ibrthwith  to  answer  it. 

"  W/iat  is  the  hv  fit  food  fur  dogs  1  An  examination  of  this  ani- 
mal must  end  in  determining  that  lie  is  neither  wholly  carnivo- 
rous, nor  wholly  herbivorous,  but  of  a  mixed  khid  ;  intended  to 
take  in  as  well  vegetable  as  animal  matter,  and  formed  to  re- 
ceive nourishment  I'rom  either.  He  isiurnished  with  sharp  cut- 
ting teeth  for  tearing  tlesh,  and  he  has  also  tolerably  broad  sur- 
faces on  other  of  his  teeth,  cajiable  of  grinding  farinaceous  sub- 
stances :  his  stomach  and  intestines  likewise  hold  a  middle  place 
between  those  of  the  carnivorous  and  herbivorous  tribes.  At 
the  same  time,  bt>th  his  dental  and  his  digestive  organs  appear 
rather  more  adapted  to  the  mastication  and  assimilation  of  ani- 
mal than  vegetable  matter;  to  which  also  his  habits  and  partia- 
lities evidently  tend.  He  is  by  nature  predacious,  and  intended 
to  live  on  other  animals ;  the  stronger  he  hunts  in  troops,  the 
weaker  he  conquers  singly.  Yet  still  it  is  clear  that  his  organs 
fit  him,  when  necessary,  ibr  receiving  nutriment  from  vegetable 
matter  also,  and  we  likewise  see  that  he  voluntarily  seeks  it, 
probably  as  a  necessary  mixture,  to  prevent  that  tendency  to 
putridity,  which  too  great  a  quantity  of  animal  ibod  begets.  It 
is  a  received  opinion  among  many  sportsmen,  that  tlesh-ieeding 
injures  the  scent ;  but  it  cannot  do  it  naturally  :  for  the  fox,  one 
of  the  caninae,  which  is  knowTi  to  be  by  choice  w  holly  camivo- 


UPLAND   .SlinOTINO. 


3'|-) 


rouH,  prlmipiilly  lives  ')y  tlio  ox(|uisito  Heiisihility  of  liia  olfac- 
tory iir.fiiii».  If  tlio  oating  of  llfsli  roiilly  Imvc  «iu'li  an  cHrct  op 
apoi'tiiig  clogs,  it  can  only  do  so,  vvIhmi  it  lias  liui<n  takrn  in  such 
(inantitios  as  to  vitiuto  tliu  sucrctions  of  tlioliody;  and  in  this 
way  thu  uitnitary  inni'ous  secretion  of  tlio  nasal  siinisrs  may 
llicinsolvos  buconio  soniowiiat  tainted. 

"  A  mixture  uf  an'unal  and  rrgi'tdLli:  aubntancca  ix  tlicnforc  the 
most  proper  general  food  for  dogs,  and  that  which  luist  agroca 
with  the  analogies  of  their  nature;  hut  tho  proporiions  of  each 
are  heat  determined  hy  the  exertinns  of  the  liody," 

I  do  not,  I  confess,  lay  any  stress  whatever  on  tho  argument 
flrnwn  from  tho  natural  state  of  tlio  can'nue,  or  from  tho  hidiits  of 
tho  fox,  since  it  is  too  notorious  to  require  comment,  thiit  animals 
in  a  high  state  of  cultivation,  not  oidy  ac(|uin^  new  wants  as  well 
us  new  hahits,  hut  lose  many  of  their  natural  (|ualities  and  in- 
stincts. And  I  am  thoroughly  convinced,  that  the  hahitual 
feeding  of  dogs  on  (lesh  has  a  tcndeiury  to  injure  their  powers 
of  scenting;  and  I  helieve  tho  reascm  why  it  does  so,  is  precisely 
because  it  does  "  vitiato  tho  secrtitions  of  the  hody"  generally, 
and  therefore  does  affect  "  tho  nasal  sinuses." 

1  have  (tbserved  many  times,  ihat  dogs  fed  largely,  even  on 
perfectly  yj-cv//  animal  food,  particularly  in  a  raw  state,  become 
int()leral)ly  od'eusive  in  odor;  and  when  this  is  tho  case  it  is  cer- 
tain that  tho  secretions  of  the  hody  arc  vitiated,  and  probalile, 
moreover,  that  the  health  of  the  animal  is  in  some  sort  affected 
likewise. 

That  llesh  is  necessary  to  dogs,  I  will  not,  however,  deny ; 
and  it  is  my  opinion  that,  during  the  dead  seasons  of  tho  year 
when  there  is  no  field  work  to  he  done,  except  exercise,  flesh 
may  he  given  nitt  only  without  detriment,  hut  with  advantage. 
Raw  meat  tends,  un(|uestionably,  to  give  a  dog  hoth  strength 
and  ferocity;  and  the  latter  is  so  nearly  allied  to  endurance, 
and  what  is  commonly  cnWvA  pluck,  that  wo  can  scarcely  encour- 
age the  one  (jualily,  apart  from  the  others. 

I  would  therefore  i'cod  dogs,  while  getting  them  into  condition, 
on  flesh — and  I  would  not  even  ohiect  to  raw  horse-flesh  for  that 


}  I 


1  I 


346 


FRANK    forester's   FIELD   SPORTS. 


: 


purpose — without  stint,  save  tliat  of  theii-  own  appetites,  having 
care  to  give  tliem  a  sufficiency  of  sulphur  in  tiicir  water  to  keep 
their  bodies  oj)en. 

Well-led,  nay  even  rendered  fat,  upon  this  strong  and  hearty 
food,  and  worked  down  into  hard  flesh  and  sound  condition  by 
constant,  and,  toward  the  commencement  of  season,  sharp  and 
fast  exercise,  Setters  or  Pointers  will  have  raised  such  a  stock 
of  muscle,  and  will  bo  so  high  in  courage,  that  they  may  safely 
dispense  with  all  solid  animal  food  during  the  prevalence  of 
the  shooting  season. 

We  have  one  advantage  in  this  country  over  the  residents  of 
Great  Britain,  in  regard  to  dog-feeding,  that  whereas  both  oat 
and  barley  meal  are  apt  to  hcut  the  blood  of  the  animal  to  such 
a  degree  as  to  prodxice  cuticular  eruptions  and  redness,  not 
very  dissimilar  to  mange,  we  possess  in  the  meal  of  the  maize, 
or  Indian  corn,  a  substance  admirably  adapted  to  the  food  of 
the  dog ;  which  moreover  has  a  tendency  to  act  on  him  as  a 
slight  and  gentle  alterative. 

This  I  consider  to  be  the  perfection  of  dog-food,  and  the  fol- 
lowing is  the  best  way  of  preparing  it. 

Take  a  caldron  half  full  of  water,  set  it  over  a  small  furnace, 
and  when  boiling  cast  in  a  handful  of  salt :  then  stir  in  the 
meal,  keeping  the  water  still  boiling,  until  it  has  attained  the 
consistency  of  very  thick  pon'idge.  Remove  it  from  the  fire, 
and  let  it  cool  gradually,  running  the  blade  of  a  knife  round 
the  side  of  the  pot,  which  will  prevent  its  adherence  to  the 
metal.  When  cold,  it  will  have  hardened  into  the  consistency 
of  stiff  batter  pudding,  and  than  this,  either  alone,  or  with 
milk,  butter-milk,  or  pot  liquor,  no  better  food  can  be  given  to 
hunting  dogs.  Observe,  however,  that  the  pot  liquor  of  ham, 
salt-pork,  salt-beef,  or  the  like,  is  objectionable  ;  as  is  the  fat, 
gi'ease  or  scraps  of  such  food ;  the  excess  of  salt  having  a  ten- 
de.vy  to  produce  a  very  obstinate  species  of  mange. 

For  a  person  who  keeps  several  dogs,  there  is  no  better  mode 
than  to  let  the  butcher  regularly  supply  him  with  sheep  heads, 
which  will  cost  a  mere  trifle,  at  the  rate  of  one  for  each  dog 


trPLAND   SHOOTING. 


347 


lace, 
the 
the 

fire, 

)U11(1 

the 
ency 
,vith 
jn  to 
am, 
fat, 
ten- 

lode 

lads, 

dog 


eveiy  second  day.  Tlicse  boiled  completely  to  rags,  and  the 
residuum  added  to  the  meal,  will  leave  no  desideratum  in  the 
way  of  feeding. 

It  is  well  to  observe  that  vegetables  of  almost  any  kind, 
as  potatoes,  carrots,  parsnips,  aTid  even  cabbages,  may  be 
added  to  this  mess,  and  that  to  the  tlog's  great  advantage.  The 
quantity  may  be  gradually  increased,  beginning  with  so  small  a 
portion  that  the  llavor  of  the  mess  shall  not  be  altered,  until  the 
door  will  eat  the  veufctables  almost  alone.  The  best  keimel 
huntsman  I  ever  knew  in  England,  was  in  the  habit  of  feeding 
his  dogs  one  day  in  six,  during  the  hunting  season,  and  twice  a 
week  during  the  rest  of  the  year  on  vegetables  and  meal  only, 
without  flesh,  and  I  never  saw  dogs  stouter  and  finer  in 
condition. 

Dogs  should  be  supplied  freely,  if  kept  chained  up  in  cities, 
where  they  cannot  procure  their  natural  herbaceous  emetic, 
with  the  common  dog-grass,  or  qiieech-grass,  trit'icum  rcpens ; 
and  where  this  cannot  be  obtained,  should  occasionally  have  an 
emetic  given  them,  consisting  of  tartarized  antimony — emetic 
tartar — from  one  to  tlnee  grains,  in  proportion  to  the  size  of 
the  dog.  It  can  be  given  most  readily,  mixed  with  lard  or  but- 
ter into  a  small  ball ;  or  between  two  slices  of  meat,  when  the 
dog  is  liungry.  Common  salt,  iji  doses  varying  from  half  a 
small  teaspoonful  to  one  and  a-half,  in  proportion  to  size,  may 
be  administered  as  an  emetic ;  but  it  is  violent  in  its  action,  and 
should  therefore  be  used  only  when  no  other  can  be  readily 
obtained. 

When  dogs  have  iieon  very  fat  previous  to  the  commence- 
ment of  the  shooting  season,  and  strong  exercise  has  been 
brought  into  play  to  reduce  and  bring  them  into  perfect  condi- 
tion, a  f<^w  gentle  doses  of  purgative  medicine  will  be  of  great 
service  to  the  animal,  and  will  improve  all  his  powers,  both  of 
speed,  endurance  and  scent. 

"  The  term  condition,"  says  Mr.  Blaine,  "as  applied  to  dogs 
is  correspondent  with  the  same  term  as  used  among  horses,  and 
is  intended  to   characterize    a  healthy   external   appearance, 


u 


it 


I 


348 


FRANK   forester's   FIELD   SPORTS. 


unitorl  with  a  capability,  from  full  wind  and  perfect  vigor,  to  go 
through  all  the  exercises  required  of  them.  It  is,  therefore, 
evident  that  condition  is  of  material  consequence  to  sportsmen  ; 
indeed,  it  is  of  infinitely  more  importance  than  is  generally  im- 
agined. What  would  he  tlunight  of  that  sporting  character  who 
should  enter  his  horse  for  racing  without  any  previous  training  1 
and  how  much  chance  ^\  ould  he  be  presumed  to  have,  even  to 
'save  his  distance'  without  this  precaution]  Is  it  not  equally 
reasonable  to  suppose  that  Pointers,  Setters,  Sjianiels,  and  more 
than  all.  Greyhounds,*  require  training;  or,  in  other  wortls 
to  be  in  full  comlilion  also  1  It  is  notorious,  that  Pointers,  Set- 
ters, and  Spaniels,  if  they  are  what  is  termed  ftml  in  their  coats, 
never  have  their  scent  in  perfection.  It  must  be  equally  evident 
that,  unless  they  arc  '  in  wind'  they  cannot  range  with  speed 
and  durability  ;  and  without  some  jirevious  training,  it  is  impos- 
sible they  should  be  so.  Those  perscjns,  therelbiv,  who  expect 
superior  exertion  from  their  dogs  in  the  field,  would  do  well  to 
prepare  them  by  a  previous  attention  to  their  rondifiofi.  In 
Greyhounds,  intended  either  for  Diatrlies  or  for  simple  coursing, 
it  is  evident  that  this  is  absolutely  necessary  to  insuie  success. 
In  simple  coursing,  they  are  pitted  against  an  animal  very 
nearly  equal  in  speed  to  themselves,  and  always  in  condition  by 
its  habits.  If,  therefore,  a  dog  of  acknowledged  goodness  is 
beaten  by  a  Hare,  especially  at  the  beginning  of  the  season,  it 
is  ten  to  one  but  the  condition  of  the  dog  is  at  fault.  It  is  self- 
evident  that  perfect  condition  must  be  more  than  ecjually  impor- 
tant in  comsmg  matches ;  where  a  dog  has  two  competitors  to 
beat,  the  Hare  and  the  other  dog. 

"  The  manner  of  getting  dogs  into  condition  is  very  simjde,  and 


•  I  was,  at  first,  about  to  omit  that  part  relating  to  Greyhounds,  as  in  conse- 
quence of  there  existing  no  animal  in  the  Eastern  States  fit  for  tlieir  pursuit,  and 
consequently  no  field  for  their  powers,  they  are  useless,  and  only  kept  as  pets. 
I  am,  however,  so  well  assured  that  they  must  come  into  use  to  the  Westward, 
and  that  the  finest  sport  conceivable  might  be  had  with  them  on  the  prairies  in 
pursuit  of  the  Deer,  the  Antelope,  and  with  the  large  Scotch,  wiry  breed  of  the 
Elk  and  Wolf  also,  that  I  have  resolved  to  retain  the  whole  passage. 


UPLAND    SHOOTING. 


349 


ttkher  consists  in  reducing  tlie  animal  from*  too  full  and  soft  a 
state  to  one  of  firmness  and  less  bulk  ;  or  it  consists  in  raising 
a  lean  and  reduced  dog  to  lustiness,  hardness,  and  vigor.  Some 
sportsmen  prefer  the  one  state,  and  some  the  other  to  begin 
upon.  If  a  dog  be  fat,  his  treatment  must  be  entered  on  by 
physic  and  sufficient  exercise,  but  not  by  two  great  a  privation 
of  food;  and  it  must  l>e  particularly  ol)served,  that  his  doses  of 
physic  be  mild,  but  more  in  number.  The  exercise  should  be 
at  first  gradual  and  slow,  but  long  continued ;  and  at  last  it 
should  be  increased  to  nearly  what  he  will  be  accustomed  to 
when  bunting.  If  there  be  the  least  foulness — i.  e.  if  the  secre- 
tions  of  tlie  skin  are  impure — apparent  in  the  habit,  besides 
physic  and  exercise,  alteratives  should  be  given  also :  these 
medicines  immediately  follow  the  subject  of  condition.  Some 
sportsmen  regularly  dress  their  dogs,  before  the  Inmting  season, 
with  sulphur,  even  though  no  breaking-out  appears,  and  I  by 
no  means  think  the  practice  a  bad  one.  Others  curry  or  brush 
their  dogs,  whether  any  skin  affection  appears  or  not ;  and,  to 
Greyhounds,  it  is  a  very  proper  means  of  keeping-up  the  equili- 
brium of  tho  circulation,  and  of  promoting  muscular  elasticity. 
When  a  lean  dog  is  to  be  got  into  condition,  less  physic  is  neces- 
sary ;  but  good  flesh  feeding,  plenty  of  exercise,  and  a  due  ad- 
ministration of  alteratives,  are  principally  to  be  resorted  to : 
nevertheless,  one  or  two  doses  of  very  mild  physic  will  here 
also  promote  the  condition  and  even  assist  the  accumulation 
of  flesh." 


ALTERATIVES. 


th,  and 

conse- 
suit,  and 

as  pets, 
cstward, 
rairics  in 
pd  of  the 


*'  Various  substances  are  used  as  alteratives  ;  as  antiraonials, 
and  the  difleront  preparations  of  mercury,  iron,  and  tin.  The 
nitrate  of  potash  f  nitre,)  the  supertartrate  of  potash  (cream  of 
tartar,)  aloes,  salines,  &c.,  &c.,  &c.,  are  excellent  alteratives. 
Tartar! zed  antimony  (emetic  tartar)  often  proves  a  very  useful 

•  This  I  concpive  to  be  the  true,  and  by  far  the  easiest  mode.     It  is  easy  to 
reduce  fat  into  solid  flesh,  but  very  ditRcult  to  raise  leanness  into  muscle,  an 
preserve  hardness  at  the  same  time. 


■nr  1 


'l  Ifirl 


350 


FRANK   FORESTER  S   FIELD    SPORTS. 


alterative  in  the  chronic  asthmatic  coutih  to  which  doffs  are 
suhjcrt,  qiven  as  an  emetic  once  or  twice  a  week,  in  doses  of 
one  grain  to  three.  Antimonial  powder,  or  James's  powder, 
may  also  be  given  with  benefit  as  an  alterative  in  similar  cases. 
Crude  antimony  is  often  found  useful  in  tlie  diseases  of  the  skin  ; 
but  it  is  unfortunately  very  uncertain  in  its  operation  :  that  is, 
some  dogs  will  bear  a  considerable  ijuantity,  while  others  cannot 
even  take  a  small  one  without  violent  sickness ;  the  usual  dose 
is  from  half  a  scruple  to  half  a  drachm.  Nitrate  of  potash 
(nitre)  is  a  very  useful  alterative  to  dogs,  for  hot  itching  humors 
and  redness  of  the  skin,  in  doses  of  four  grains  to  ten.  The  su- 
pertartrate  of  potash  (crcatn  of  tartar)  may  be  so  given  likewise 
with  benefit  in  larger  doses,  in  the  same  cases  :  all  the  prepara- 
tions of  mercury,  though  excellent  alteratives,  require  great 
caution  when  frequently  repeated,  or  regularly  given;  for  dogs 
are  easily  salivated,  and  salivation  produces  very  hurtful  effects 
on  them." 

LAXATIVES  AND  PURGATIVES, 

"  These  evacuants  are  hot\\  j)revcntivc  ?mA  curative  of  disease  : 
they  are  valuable  alteratives,  and  active  iinmediate  agents  in 
acute  affections.  By  opening  the  bowels,  we  remove  a  frequent 
cause  of  irritation  to  the  system  ;  and  a  very  considerable  source 
of  skin  affections  also  ;  for  whatever  is  taken  up  superfluously 
by  the  system  is  apt  to  find  itself  an  outlet  there.  We  thereby 
likewise  prevent  pidmonary  congestion,  and  deposits  of  fat, 
which  would  obstruct  the  visceral  functions.  Laxatives  are 
good  pre^  entives  against  that  habitual  costiveness  common  to 
dogs  and  all  other  carnivorous  animals :  such,  therefore,  as  are 
flesh-fed  should  have  this  tendency  obviated  by  laxatives  ;  and 
the  best  which  offers  itself  is  a  portion  of  vegetable  matter  with 
their  flesh  food :  potatoes,  or  even  greens,  can  always  be  pro- 
r;ured,  and  will  answer  the  pui-pose.  This  is  the  more  neces- 
sary, for  costiveness  sometimes  occasions  fatal  obstructions ;  and 
a  costive  habit  brings  on  fistulae,  and  also  affords  encourage- 
ment to  the  breeding  of  worms.     Medicinal  laxatives  are  nu- 


irPLAND   SHOOTING. 


351 


mei'oug.  Epsom  salts — sulpliatc  of  magnesia — dose  onn  draclim 
to  two ;  castor  f)il,  two  draclims  to  four ;  syrup  of  buckthorn, 
the  same  quantity,  will  citlior  of  them  answer  this  end,  tiio 
quantities  being  increased  if  tliose  mentioned  are  not  found  suf- 
ficient :  but  as  these  directions  are  intended  to  meet  the  tender 
pet  of  the  di-awing-room,  as  well  as  the  strong  inhabitant  of  the 
kennel,  so  it  is  prudent  to  specify  the  minor  dose  :  more  may 
be  added,  but  it  is  too  late  to  subtract  when  too  much  has  been 
given. 

"Purgatives  may  be  made  by  increasing  the  doses  of  any  of  the 
laxatives.  Jalap  is  not  a  bad  purgative  to  dogs,  but  it  is  uncer- 
tain, some  being  little  affected  by  it ;  rhubarb  is  equally  so ; 
senna  I  have  no  experience  of;  gamboge  is  very  drastic;  calo- 
mel is  an  excellent  auxiliary  to  other  purgatives  on  some  occa- 
bions ;  ^ut  given  alone  it  is  apt  to  deceive,  by  proving  more 
emetic  than  purgative ;  neither  will  the  stomach  or  bowels  bear 
a  sufficient  quantity  without  producing  much  derangement  in 
the  system,  as  violent  vomiting,  tenesmus,  and  sometimes  sud- 
den salivation.  Aloes  form  tlie  safest  general  purge  to  dogs ; 
and  such  are  the  peculiarities  of  the  canine  bowels,  that  while  a 
man  can  take  with  impunity  as  much  calomel  as  would  kill  two 
large  dogs,  a  moderate-sized  dog  will  take  a  quantity  of  aloes 
sufficient  to  destroy  two  stout  mmi.  Tlu;  smallest  dog  can  take 
fifteen  or  twenty  grains  ;  half  a  drachm  is  seldom  too  much,  but 
the  smaller  dose  had  better  be  tried  first:  medium-sized  dogs 
usually  require  a  drachm,  and  some  large  dogs  have  taken 
more  than  two  drachms :  I  have  given  three  to  a  strong  New- 
foundland dog  without  extreme  catharsis;  but  as  befoi-e  ob- 
served, dogs  differ  much  in  their  different  habits,  and  it  is  there- 
fore most  prudent  to  begin  with  a  dose  too  small  than  too 
large  :  hundreds  of  dogs  are  every  year  destroyed  by  temerity 
in  this  particular.  Whenever  a  purgative  is  administered,  let 
the  dog  have  some  vegetable  food,  if  possible,  a  day  or  two  pre- 
viously ;  an  active  cathartic,  given  soon  after  a  full  meal  of 
flesh  or  bouos,  might  destroy  by  iiurrying  the  undigested  food 
into  the  intestines,  where  it  might  form  such  an  impacted  and 
VOL.  I.  26 


852 


FRANK    FORESTER  S   FIELD    SPORTS. 


I  I 


il    t 


■\'>l 


obstructing  mass  as  could  not  be  overcome :  it  is  pnident  to 
place  before  the  dog  some  brotli,  milk,  &c.,  to  assist  purgation. 
Let  me  warn  sportsmen  wlio  arc  putting  tlicir  dogs  through  a 
course  of  physic,  for  hunting  or  coursing  purposes,  to  bo  aware, 
that  it  is  not  tlie  inordinate;  strongtli  of  the  dose  which  does 
good ;  on  the  contrary,  violent  physic  often  defeats  its  own  pur- 
pose :  it  is  a  mild  and  repeated  emptying  of  tho  bowels  which 
unloads  the;  system  at  large,  and  at  once  strengthens  the  solids 
and  purifies  Uie  fluids." 

This,  I  believe,  is  all  that  need  be  said,  in  this  place,  with  re- 
gard to  general  medical  treatment,  except  in  cases  of  speci- 
fic disease,  wliere  the  aid  of  a  medical  assistant  of  some  kind 
would  of  course  be  called  in  ;  and  directions  for  the  treatment 
of  which  cannot  be  contained  witliin  tlie  compass  of  such  a 
work  as  this.  In  consequence,  however,  of  tlie  great  prevalence 
of  two  or  three  maladies,  as  canine  distemper,  worms,  mange, 
and  the  like,  with  some  common  injuries  arising  frcmi  local 
accidents,  I  shall  here  add  a  few  short  recipes  for  the  treatment 
of  these  troublesome  maladies,  which  will  be,  I  think,  sufficient 
to  guide  the  sportsman  in  any  ordinary  rases. 

Occasional  bleeding  is  of  great  benefit  to  dogs.  It  is  most 
readily  perfomied  by  holding  tlie  head  of  the  animal  up, 
passing  a  ligature  round  the  lower  part  of  the  neck,  which  will 
cause  the  jugular  vein  to  swell  at  aboui  one  inch  from  the  wind- 
pipe, and  then  puncturing  the  vein  with  a  common  thumb  lan- 
cet. The  only  care  necessary  is  to  avoid  inserting  the  lancet 
so  deeply  as  to  sever  the  vein.  If  the  hair  is  thick  and  long,  it 
may  be  requisite  to  clip,  or  even  sliavetlie  spot,  before  effecting 
the  orifice.  No  pin  or  ligature  is  necessaiy  to  close  the  wound. 
In  case  of  fits,  or  any  sudden  emergency,  a  clip  in  the  ear,  if  no 
Iincet  is  at  hand,  will  answer  the  end. 

The  quantity  of  blood  to  be  drawn  from  a  dog  will  vary  ac- 
cording to  the  size  of  the  animal,  from  one  or  two  oz.  in  a  very 
small  dog,  to  six,  seven,  or  eight  in  a  very  large  one,  propor- 
tionably  to  the  nature  of  disease,  and  the  violence  of  the  symp- 
toms. 


aPLAND   SHOOTING. 


353 


ent  to 
rration. 

mgh  a 
aware, 
\\  does 
vn  pur- 
3  wliicli 
le  solicls 

with  Tc- 
af  speci- 
ime  kind 
rcattnciit 
f  sucii  a 
rcvalenco 
s,  mange, 
:om  local 
tieatment 
sufficient 

[t  is  most 
limal  \ip, 
;bicli  will 
tho  wind- 
hiumb  lan- 
Jtlie  lancet 
|nd  long,  it 
re  effecting 
the  wound. 
le  ear,  if  no 

kll  vary  ac- 
Jz.  in  a  very 
Ine,  propor- 
jf  the  aymp- 


Tlie  pulse  of  tlie  dog  may  lie  felt  at  the  heart,  and  at  the 
inner  side  of  the  protuberance  of  tlio  kneo.  Tlic  range  of  pul- 
sation lietweon  a  very  large  and  a  very  small  dog,  is  not  less 
than  20.  Thus,  if  100  be  taken  as  the  usual  nuniber  for  the 
former,  and  120  for  tin;  lattt^r,  wlintovcr  is  found  much  to  exceed 
this  maybe  nscrilu'd  to  the  inflammatory  state. 

The  following  brief  rules  for  the  treatment  of  a  few  of  the 
most  common  diseases,  and  injuries  to  which  dogs  are  liable, 
are  from  Messrs.  Blaine  and  Youatt.  They  are  all  safe,  and 
will,  I  think,  be  found  sure. 

DISTEMPER,  OR  SPECIFIC  CATARRHAL  DISEASE. 

The  term  of  distemper,  though  in  itself  a  very  absurd  and  in- 
definite tei-m,  has  become  so  conventional  that  it  cannot  readily 
be  dispensed  with,  as  by  this  name  and  no  other  it  is  generally 
known. 

Whatever  it  might  have  been  in  the  first  instance,  it  is  now 
a  constitutional  canine  endemic,  from  which  few  individuals 
escape.  It  is  at  times  epidemical  also,  and  is  then  peculiarly 
fatal.  It  greatly  varies  in  form,  and,  particularly  when  it  assumes 
the  shape  of  an  epidemic,  has  some  peculiar  characteristic 
type,  sometimes  tending  to  diaiThcea,  sometimes  to  epilepsy 
and  spasms,  and  sometimes,  the  most  fatal  of  all,  to  a  putrid 
habit. 

It  is  unquestionably  contagious,  but  it  is,  as  I  have  stated, 
endemical  and  epidemical  also,  and  it  is  also  self-generated.  It 
affects  dogs  at  all  ages,  from  mere  puppies  of  five  or  six  weeks, 
to  adults  of  as  many  years.  It  occurs  also  many  times  in  the 
same  individual,  and  dogs  have  been  known  to  escape  it  thrice 
and  perish  by  a  fourth  attack.  This  is,  liowever,  fortunately, 
uncommon.  In  the  most  highly-bred  dogs  it  is  the  most  fatal, 
and  I  have  generally  observed  it  to  be  especially  dangerous  to 
the  smooth-haired  races,  as  Greyhoimds  and  Bull-terriers.  With 
Newfoundland  dogs,  at  times,  it  makes  sad  havoc.  Its  symp- 
toms are  so  various,  that  it  is  not  easy  to  set  before  the  reader 


v\\ 


M 


**^«" 


354 


FRANK    FORESTEU  S   FIELD    SPORTS. 


any  distinct  or  strict  diagnostic  signs,  yet  it  is  not  difficult,  on 
the  whole,  of  detection. 

A  dry,  husky  cough,  followed  by  a  loss  of  spirits  and  appe- 
tite, the  stai'ing  of  the  coat,  and  a  thin  watery  discliai'go  from 
the  nostrils  and  eyes,  gradually  instead  of  limpid  hecoming 
muco-purulent,  arc  usually  the  earliest  symptoms  of  the  disease  ; 
though  at  times  the  discharge  does  not  appear,  or  is  quickly 
arrested,  and  followed  by  convulsions,  which  usually  terminate 
the  affair  very  quickly. 

When  tlic  symptomatic  epilepsy  of  distemper  occurs,  if  the  at- 
tack can  be  aiTested  with  the  occurrence  of  a  single  fit,  the  dog 
often  recovers,  but  if  one  is  followed  by  a  second,  the  case  is 
usually  hopeless. 

The  vimlent  or  putrid  type  of  the  disease  marked  by  a  bloody 
and  fcrtid  discharge  from  the  nose,  eyes,  and  sometimes  even 
from  the  ears,  and  by  bloody,  mucous  and  bilious  evacuations 
of  the  bowels,  is,  I  think,  so  almost  invariably  fatal,  that  the 
most  merciful  method  is  at  once  to  destroy  the  animal,  as  an  act 
of  kindness  to  himself,  as  well  as  a  means  of  preventing  extend- 
ed ravages  by  contagion. 

Again,  distemper  often  leaves  behind  it  a  species  of  paralysis, 
with  nervous  twitch ings  of  the  limbs,  similar  to  chorea  or  St. 
Vitus'  dance,  which  continually  increase,  until  it  ends  in  convul- 
sions and  death,  though  it  will  at  times  slowly  and  entirely  dis- 
appear. 

The  treatment  of  distemper  must  therefore  necessarily  vary 
greatly,  cand  it  is  needless  to  add  that  although  almost  every 
sportsman  and  breeder  has,  what  he  believes,  an  infallible  rem- 
edy— there  is  no  such  thing  as  a  general  specific  for  its  cure  or 
prevention. 

The  best  plan  generally  is  to  commence  operations  with  a 
mild  purgative  or  emetic,  such  as  have  been  prescribed  under 
the  head  of  Genei-al  Treatment. 

If  there  is  veiy  much  cough,  or  the  pulse  be  very  gi'eatly  ex- 
cited, bleed  from  three  to  six  oz.,  according  to  the  age  and  size 
of  the  dog.    If  bleeding  is  adopted,  use  a  very  mild  purgative. 


UPLAND   SIIOOTINQ, 


855 


ricult,  on 

id  appe- 
fgo  from 
liocominq 
3  tliscasc ; 
s  quickly 
tennmate 

if  tlie  at- 

[\t,  the  dog 
the  case  is 

by  a  bloody 
!times  even 
evacuations 
al,  that  the 
lal,  as  an  act 
iting  extend- 

of  paralysis, 
diorea  or  St. 
ids  in  convul- 
entirely  dis- 

:es9arily  vary 
almost  every 
infallible  rem- 
for  its  cure  or 

rations  with  a 
escribed  under 

ei-y  gi-eatly  ex- 
le  age  and  size 
liU  purgative. 


The  best  emetic  is 

Ciiloiiicl,        .        .         i  (fr.  Tartarized  aiitiinoiiy,        .  J  gr. 

Tliis  formula  is  for  the  smallest  dog.     The  largest  may  require 

of  each  2  grains. 

After  the  bowels  are  cleansed  and  the  body  thus  dei^leted, 

'Bjf..  AutiiDoalul  powder,  2,  3  or  4  fjrs.       Nitniti'  of  Potiisli,        5,  1(J  or  15  grs. 
Powdered  ijiecaciiaiiliu,  'i,  \\  or  l  (rrs. 

Make  into  a  ball,  according  to  size  and  age,  and  give  twice  or 
thrice  a  day,  as  the  symptoms  are  more  or  less  urgent,  diminish- 
ing the  dose  if  it  produces  sickness. 

If  the  cough  is  very  distressing,  add  to  each  dose 
Foxglove  digitalis,  J  to  1  gr. 
If  no  farther  symptoms  occur,  I'epeat  the  emetic  eveiy  third  or 
fourth   day,  and  keep  the  bowels  open,  but  strenuously  avoid 
any  thing  like  active  purgation. 

In  case  oi  diarrhaa  supervening, 

tj^.  No.  1. — Powdered  opium,         5  grs.        Powdered  catechu,  .     2  dre. 

Powdered  Gum-Arabic,  2  drs.         Prei)aicd  chalk.        .        .    2  drs. 

Powdered  ginger,  J  dr. 

Make  into  twelve,  nine,  or  six  balls,  with  conserve  of  roses,  and 
give  ft-om  once  to  four  times  a  day,  pro  re  nata. 
If  this  does  not  suffice, 

^.  No.  .3. — Magnesia,     .  1  dr.         Powdered  alum,  .  2  scr. 

Powdered  calumba,  1  dr.         Powdered  Gum-Arabic,  2  drs. 

Mix  with  six  ounces  of  boiled  starch,  and  give  a  desert  or  a 
tablespoonful  every  four,  six  or  eight  hours.  2>-  ^-  "K" 

In  caSiG  o?  epileptic  Jits  being  foreseen,  by  sudden  restlessness, 
animation,  brightness  of  the  eyes,  and  convulsive  twitchings  of 
the  face  and  jaws,  give  a  brisk  emetic,  followed  by  a  brisk  pur- 
gative, and  insert  a  seton  in  the  neck,  the  tape  smeared  with 
blistering  ointment.  If  repeated  attacks  succeed,  give  the  follow- 
ing formula  to  a  medium-sized  dog,  half  the  quantity  to  a  small 
one,  in  a  spoonful  of  ale  every  two  hours. 


^.  iEther, 
Camphor, 


1  dr.  Tincture  of  opium,    . 

G  grd.         Spirits  of  hartshorn. 


4  dr. 
1  dr. 


Place  the  dog  in  a  very  warm  bath  for  twenty  minutes,  and  keep 
him  warm  and   moist  by  wrapping  in  wet  flannel  before  the 


350 


FRANK   FOHESTF-R  S   FIRLD   SPOUTS. 


II ;  - 


1!     ' 


'f 


fire,  for  several  hours  afterward.  Give  nourishing  food,  an  J  keop 
quiot. 

If  chorea  or  paralijsii  follow  distemper,  use  the  scton  as 
ahovc,  stiniuliito  the  spine  by  ruhliinrr  the  whole  course  of  it 
witli  tincture  of  canthiiridcs,  and  as  a  tonic 

^.  Nitrate  of  silver,  very  fine,  3  ifrs.         Carboiintu  of  irou,  powderi'il,       S  dni. 
C<*'iitiuii,  powdtTod,  3  dfH. 

Conserve  of  roses  sufficient  to  make  six,  nine,  or  twelve  balls,  of 
which  give  one  every  night  and  morning,  if  the  stomucii  will 
bear  them. 

Frictions,  liberal  feeding,  strong  soups,  and  cold  baths,  may 
aid  in  tliis  stage  of  the  disorder. 

These  directions  are  .abridged  from  Blaine  and  Youatt,  and 
contain,  I  believe,  tlie  best  remedial  course  that  can  be  used. 

For  the  disease  under  its  ordinary  type,  the  })ractice  al)ove 
detailed  will  be  found  all-sufficient,  and  even  when  diarrhoea 
sets  in,  there  is  no  occasion  to  desj)air. 

I  must  say,  however,  that  although  I  have  thought  it  advisa- 
ble to  insert  formuke  for  the  treatment  of  the  epilejitic  fits,  and 
of  the  eJiorca  or  paralysis  of  distemper,  I  have  never  seen  the 
fits  coiKjuered  where  two  or  three  have  occurred,  and  the  chorea 
never. 

When  paralysis  or  chorea  fi)llow8, 1  would  myself  kill  the  ani- 
mal as  an  act  of  mercy.  For  the  jiutrid  or  malignant  type  of 
this  disease,  I  have  not  thought  it  worth  the  while  to  prescribe 
any  treatment,  as  it  is  all  but  incurable. 

• 

AVORMS. 

For  worms,  an  ailment  to  which  dogs  are  extremely  liable, 
anrl  vvhich  is  very  troublesome,  and  at  times,  even  dangerous, 
the  following  formula  is  safe  and  unexceptionable. 

^.  Cowliane — Dulicho.i  prnriens,  half  a  drachm, 
Tiii-filiiigs,  very  fine,  4  druchins. 

made  into  four,  six,  or  eight  balls,  with  lard,  according  to  the  size 
of  the  patient,  exhibit  one  every  morning,  and  afterwards  ad- 
minister a  purgative,  such  as  epsom  salts,  or  castor   oil,  or  a 


keop 

on  as 
3  of  it 

12  (Ira. 

alls,  of 
Lch  will 

18,  may 

att,  and 
used, 
e   above 
liarrliCBa 

it  advisa- 
:  fits,  and 
seen  tlio 
10  chorea 

1  the  ani- 
type  of 
prescribe 


nely  liable, 
dangerous, 


to  tlie  aize 
rwarda  ad- 
oil,  or  a 


UPLAND   SHOOTING. 


357 


very  sliffht  meroirial  dose,  not  exceeding  4  grs.  of  calomel  in 
combinutioii  with  iiloes. 

POISONS. 

For  any  mercurial  poisons,  tlio  best  remedy  is  tho  white  of 
eggs,  boiiteu  into  a  licjuid,  given  in  large  (juantitii-s,  ami  repi-at- 
ed  as  often  as  they  have  Itcen  ejected.  Mihl  clysters  may  lio 
thrown  lip,  and  wlieu  tlio  stomach  is  appeased,  give  an  opiate 
and  castor  oil.  Wiien  eggs  aro  not  at  hand,  laige  doses  of  soap 
dissolved  in  water  may  be  tiied. 

For  iirs(!iiic,  largo  ddses  of  siigiu'  dissolved  in  milk,  until  the 
stomach  is  siipjiosed  to  be  cleared,  then  as  above. 

For  verdigris,  as  for  mercurial  poisons. 

For  load,  give  a  strong  dose  of  epsoin  salts.     If  thisl)e  i eject 
ed,  a  i>all  with  ca;.)mel,  aloes  and  a  (juartcr  of  a  grain  of  ()2)ium. 
After  this  the  body  to  be  kept  open  with  ("istor  oil. 

For  vegetahle  poisons,  a  strong  emetic  should  be  given  as 
quickly  as  possihlc,  followed  by  a  large  tcaspoonful  of  mustard, 
or  any  other  strong,  spicy  stimulant,  such  as  pepper,  or  the 
like,  mixed  with  vuiegar. 

MANOB. 

For  common  Mange,  the  following  formula  for  ointment  will 
be  found  useful : 


No.  1. — Powdered  siilpliur, 
Aloes,  powdered, 


)r 


4oz. 

1  dr.         Venice  turpentine, 
Lard,  G  o/.,  mix. 

No.  2. — Siilphute  of  zinc,  1  dr.         Tobacco  in  powder, 

Wliite  Hellebore  in  powder,  i  oz.        Suiplmr  in  powder. 
Aloes  in  powder,         .  2  dr.         Lard, 

No.  3. — Powdered  churcoui,        2  oz.         Powdered  sulphur, 
Potash,        ...         1  dr.  Lurd, 

Venice  turpentine,  J  oz.,  mix. 

No.  4. — Sulphuric  acid,        .         1  dr.         Lard, 

Tar,        ...  2  oz.         Powdered  lime. 

No.  h.—  Waah. — Decoction  of  tobacco,3  oz.     Decoction  of  white  hellebore,  3  oz, 
Oxymuriate  of  quicksilver,  5  grs. 

With  all  these  applications  a  fine  wire  muzzle  must  he  used 
to  prevent  the  dog  licking  himself,  as  if  he  do  so  he  will  infalli- 


^luriato  of  ammonia,  powdered,  ^  oz. 

\  oz. 

,         i  oz. 

4oz. 

G  oz.,  mix. 

.        4  oz. 
.        G  oz. 

G  oz. 
1  oz. 


r- 


358 


FRANK   FonESTER's   FIELD  SPORTS, 


My  poiiHh  fi(tm  tho  strong  poisonous  propcitios  of  the  rcniedleB. 

Vitv  red   mange,  to  iiny  of  tlio   forniulii,  1,  2,  or  3,  to  fi  oz.  of 

tlie   ((iiitmeiits  prescribed,  add   1   oz.  mild  mercurial  ointment. 

Use  tlie  wire  nuizzle  as  aliove. 

In   addition  to  these  outer  applications,  give  mild  doses  of 

epsoni  salts  twice  or  thrice  a  week;  and  occasionally,  hut  for 

red  mango  alivaijs,  the  following  formula : 

lilack  Hiilpluirot  of  qiiickHilvur,  /I'llliiop'fl  iiiiiu*  "il,  1  oz> 
Su|)prliirtariito  of  polUHli,        1  oz.        Nitruto  of  Potash,  .      2  dre. 

Divide  into  sixteen,  twenty,  or  twenty-four  doses,  according  to 
the  size  of  the  dog,  and  give  one  morning  and  evening. 
Keep  the  dog  warm  and  dry,  and  feed  on  vogetablo  diet. 

OPHTHALMIA, 

Whether  arising  from  cold,  or  external  initation,  as  scratches, 

thoni-wounds,  or  the  like,  may  bo  treated  successfully  as  follows: 

Give  gentle  purgatives,  feed  low;  if  nuich  iuHannuation,  bleed. 

Apply  the  following  wash  several  times  a  day,  after  fomenting, 

with  an  infusion  of  poppy-heads,  or  a  weak  iulusiou  of  opium 

in  hot  water. 

Supomcctute  of  lead,  i  dr.        Rose-water,  •  6  oz. 

When  the  Inflammation  is  disappearing, 

Sulphate  of  zinc,  .     1  scnip.        Weak  infusion  of  elm  bark,  G  oz. 

Brandy,  one  teaspoouful. 

SORE    FEET. 

"  When  dog's  feet  become  sore  by  travelling  it  is  common  to 
wash  them  with  brine,  but  this  is  not  altogether  a  good  practice. 
It  is  better  to  bathe  them  with  greasy  jiot  licpioi",  milk  or  butter- 
milk, and  afterwards  to  defend  them  from  stones  or  dirt  by 
wrapping  them  up." — Blaine. 

My  practice  is  always  ail:er  shooting,  to  bathe  a  dog's  feet 
when  unwounded,  with  brine,  which  tends  greatly  to  indurate 
and  prevent  them  from  becomiiig  sore.  If  actually  sore,  I  fol- 
low Mr.  Blaine's  course  of  treatment. 


UPLAND   SlIOOTINO. 


3A9 


led'iee. 
oz.  of 
itmi'iit. 

1)908  of 
V)ut  for 


2dre. 
vding  to 

diet. 


scvatchcs, 
18  follows : 
ion,  bleed. 

bmeuting, 
of  opium 

6oz. 
bark,  6  oz. 


common  to 
lod  practice. 
Ilk  or  butter- 

or   diit  by 

la  dog's  feet 

to  indurate 

ly  sore,  1  fol- 


The  liabit  of  wonning  dt)g8  is,  I  heliovo,  now  entirely  out  of 
date,  us  it  is  entirely  useless  as  a  provontivo  for  hydioplioblu, 
of  which  it  was  ignorantly  supposed  to  prevent  tlio  p(w.sil)lo 
occurrence.     It  is  an  iilisnrd,  useless  ami  cruel  practice. 

I  do  not  approve  of  tlio  practico  of  oitlii-r  cropping,  lounding 
or  tailinir  doirs  :  but  if  in  coniplianco  with  an  absurd  fashion  it 
must  l>o  done,  and  the  animal  disfigured,  and  otlon  seriously 
injured — for  deafness  is  a  common  consequence  of  cropping^ 
the  operation  should  be  performed  willi  a  pair  of  sliarp,  strong 
scissors,  and  a  ligature  should  he  applied  to  tliy  tuil,  in  order  to 
prevent  excessive  bleeding. 

For  the  bites  of  poisonous  reptiles,  the  best  remedy  is  to  rub 
the  part  bitten  freely  with  volatile  alcali,  and  to  give  to  a  large 
dog  foity  drops  of  spirits  of  hartshorn  hourly  in  a  teaspoonful 
of  sweet  oil. 

When  these  cannot  be  obtained,  rub  the  wound  freely  with 
olive  oil,  close  to  a  wood  fire,  and  give  large  doses  of  olive  oil 
internally. 

A  poultice  of  the  leaves  of  the  broad-leaved  plantain,  bruised 
and  mixed  with  common  salt,  I  have  found  uscstul. 

For  sprains,  bruises  or  thorn  wounds,  h(»l  fomentations  of 
infusion  of  camomile  flowers,  or  vinegar  and  water,  as  hot  as  can 
be  endured,  and  warm  poultices,  are  the  bist  practice.  In  the 
case  of  thorn  wounds  tlio  lacorati(m  should  be  carefully  searched 
that  no  portion  of  tlie  thorn  or  splinter  remain  within  it. 

Large  cuts  or  lacerations  should  be  washed  carefully  with 
tepid  water,  the  lips,  if  necessary,  scciuod  by  a  stitch  or  two, 
and  the  edges  brought  into  cont;u  r  by  strips  of  adhesive  plaster. 
It  is  a  very  tUlsc  idea  tliat  the  animal's  tougue  is  the  best  dres- 
sing. Mr.  Blaine  observes  on  this  point,  "  In  some  instances,  I 
am  ceitain,  no  application  cm  be  worse  to  a  wounded  dog 
than  his  own  tongue.  Whenever  dogs  are  at  all  inclined  to 
foulness,  as  a  tendency  to  cuticular  complaint  is  called,  a  sore 
BO  licked,  is  sure  to  become  mangy,  and  to  be  aggravated  by  the 
licking." 

I  shall  conclude  this  branch  of  my  subject,  as  I  commenced 


360 


KHANK    FORESTEK's    FIELD   SPORTS. 


it,  l)y  recommending  it  strongly  to  every  sportsman  to  have  al- 
ways at  hfind,  as  better  than  the  best  farriers,  Blaine's  Canine 
Pathology,  and  Youatt  on  the  Dog:  these,  if  he  have  ordinary 
intelligence,  and  ordinary  care,  aided  by  a  small  medicine-chest, 
and  a  lancet — without  which  latter  article  no  sportsman  should 
ever  take  the  field — will  enable  him  to  guard  against  the  occur- 
rence of  most  disorders  in  his  kennel,  and  to  conquer  such  as  do 
occur,  unless  extiaordinarily  obstinate  or  malignant. 


FIELD    MANAGEMENT    OF    DOGS. 


Il>r  'C 


It  is  not,  of  course,  presumed  that  the  sportsman  is  necessari- 
ly to  become  a  dog-breaker,  much  less  that  a  tyro  at  field  sports 
can  be  made  a  dog-breaker  by  reading  a  few  pages  more  or 
less  of  written  or  printed  instructions. 

On  the  contrary,  it  is  notorious  that  scarce  any  science  is  more 
difficult  of  attainment,  or  requires  more  combinations  of  personal 
qualifications  than  that  of  subduing  and  breaking  animals.  Ex- 
treme patience,  great  steadiness  of  temper,  sagacity,  intelligence, 
quickness  of  comprehension,  firmness  and  even  severity,  must  be 
united  to  long  experience,  to  peisonal  strength,  physical  cour- 
age, the  power  of  endurhig  fatigue,  unwearied  industry,  indo- 
mitable energy,  and  constant  perseverance.  Even  of  professional 
dog-breakers,  not  one  in  fifty  is  really  up  to  his  business  ;  how 
then  shall  the  amateur  hope  to  jump  at  the  conclusion  in  a  minute. 

Again,  it  is  presumed  that  every  person  who  is  not  a  most 
perfect  and  accomplished  sportsman,  will  buy  a  well-broke  dog; 
or  if  he  breeds,  which  is  troublesome,  and  very  likely  to  lead  to 
disappointment,  will  have  his  Pointer  or  Setter  trained  by  a 
professional  v/orkman. 

It  is  true  that  a  dog  will  certainly  work  better  for  the  person 
who  has  first  trained,  and  continually  practised  him,  without 
ever  changing  his  master;  but  so  few  men  have  the  ability,  and 
BO  few  of  those  who  have,  are  willing  to  give  the  time  or  labor 
necessary  to  indoctiinate  a  dog  thoroughly,  that  it  is  hardly  ever 


UPLAND   SHOOTING. 


361 


Ex- 

reuce, 
ist  bo 
cour- 
indo- 
sional 
how 
linute. 
most 
(log; 
ad  lo 
by  a 

lersoii 
ithout 
y,  and 
labor 
y  ever 


done  by  the  gentleman  sportsman,  and  indeed  I  should  hardly 
recommend  the  attempt. 

For  a  novice  to  attempt  it,  would  be  an  act  of  stark  mad- 
ness. Still,  however,  it  is  UL'cessary  to  know  something  of  the 
theory  of  the  science,  otherwise  it  will  be  impossible  to  keep 
the  animal,  after  being  thoroughly  trained,  peiii-ct  in  his  ])ri'.c- 
tice ;  and  again,  it  is  well  that  the  rules  should  bo  laid  down 
distinctly,  as  very  many  professed  breakers  fail  in  their  art  from 
want  not  of  perseverance,  but  of  knowledge. 

First  of  all,  it  must  be  remcmliered,  that  although  to  2>oint 
was  once  a  taught  quality,  it  is  now,  in  the  pure  high-bred 
Pointer  and  Setter  an  inherited,  if  not  natural,  instinct,  and  in 
the  veiy  purest  caste  of  Pointers  to  hack  the  point  of  their  fel- 
lows, is  also  now  hereditary.  I  have  seen  half-a-dozen  Pointer 
puppies,  not  above  six  weeks  old,  crawling  about  the  yard, 
pointing  the  Pigeons  and  fowls,  and  backing  one  another,  as 
steadily  as  old  dogs  in  the  field ;  and  I  hardly  consider  any  dog. 
Pointer  or  Setter,  as  worth  the  trouble  and  ex2)ense  of  breaking, 
unless  he  points  the  first  game  bird  he  ever  scents,  even  if  he 
have  not  seen  it. 

The  first  step  I  therefore  would  take  with  a  young  dog, 
18  to  find  out  whether  he  has  got  a  nose  or  not,  and  whether  he 
is  worth  breaking ;  this  I  should  do  by  taking  a  walk  with  him, 
and  without  a  gim,  where  game  abounded,  and  observing  his 
actions  and  movements.  If  he  have  a  good  nose,  and  be  highly 
bred,  he  will  undoubtedly  point  on  the  first  occasi<m  of  his 
crossing  the  scent  of  Quail,  Grouse,  Snipe,  or  Woodcock. 

This  point  once  established,  the  sooner  he  is  carried  home 
the  better,  and  he  is,  on  nf)  account  wiiatever,  to  be  taken  out 
again,  or  to  see  game  again,  until  he  is  perfectly  Itousc-hrolce. 

It  is  to  the  vicious  phui  of  attempting  to  break  dogs  in  the 
field,  and  in  the  face  of  game,  that  the  number  of  wild,  worth- 
less, irreclaimable  brutes,  is  to  be  attributed. 

The  first  step  in  breaking,  is  to  teach  the  dog  to  "  down,"  or 
"  charge,"  wherever  he  is.  He  is  tauglit  to  do  this  in  the  com- 
mencement, by  means  of  a  cord  fastened  to  his  collar,  and  by 


362 


FRANK    forester's   FIELD   SPORTS. 


gentle  force,  and  gentle  punishment — -'at  first,  at  the  word 
"  down,"  or  "  chai'ge,"  then  by  the  raised  hand  accompanying 
the  word ;  then  by  the  raised  hand  alone. 

This  done,  the  cord  must  be  removed,  and  he  must  be  accus- 
tomed to  "  charge"  at  any  distance  from  his  master,  and  to  lie 
steadily  at  charge,  even  although  the  master  walks  away  from 
him  with  his  back  turned,  and  goes  out  of  sight  of  1dm,  unless 
he  is  desired  to  "  hold  up." 

Lastly,  he  must  be  taught  to  consider  the  sound  of  the  gun  as 
equivalent  to  the  raised  hand,  or  the  woid  "  charge,"  and  to 
obey  any  one  of  these  signals  when  at  the  top  of  his  sjieed. 

Next,  he  must  learn  to  answer  the  sound  of  the  whistle,  ac- 
cording to  his  master's  teaching.  The  best  signal  is  to  turn  and 
look  at  one  sharp  whistle,  to  come  in  at  a  prt)longed  blast.  On 
turning  his  head,  he  is  to  follow  the  wafture  of  his  master's 
hand  to  the  right  or  left,  and  he  is  then  to  be  instructed  in 
breaking  and  quartering  his  ground  regularly  and  evenly  at  the 
whistle,  and  the  waive  of  the  hand.  Gradually  he  will  come  to 
understand  the  object  of  this  teaching,  and  will  quarter  his  ground 
alone. 

This  is  a  veiy  important  part  of  breaking,  for  no  dog  can  be 
regarded  as  at  all  perfect,  which  only  runs  about  its  gi'ound  in"e- 
gulai'ly,  without  settled  and  orderly  method,  leaving  great 
spaces  uncrossed,  and,  perhaps,  crossing  other  sjjaces  several 
times  over,  wasting  time  thus,  and  failing  to  find  much  of  its 
game  ;  and  yet  it  is  not  unfair  to  say,  that  of  fifty  dogs  turned 
out  as  broken  dogs  by  American  breakers,  not  one  has  ever  been 
instmcted  in  the  rudiments  of  this  branch. 

As  soon  as  the  pup  drops  to  shot  perfectly,  and  steadily,  and 
turns  quickly  to  the  whistle  and  call,  having  learned  the  neces- 
sity o'i  jtrompt  and  implicit  obedience,  and  the  certainty  of  pimish- 
ment  in  case  of  wilfulness,  he  may  be  taken  out  alone,  without  a 
gun,  to  find  game.  He  must  thus  be  accustomed  to  the  word 
•'  Toho,"  as  the  signal  of  pointing,  and  that  so  thoroughly,  that  he 
shall  obey  the  word  "  Toho,"  by  pointing  steadily  when  there 
is  no  game. 


UPLAND   SHOOTING. 


863 


This  clone,  several  young  dogs  may  be  taken  out  to  exercise 
together,  and  taught  all  to  drop  at  once  at  the  word  "  charge," 
the  raised  hand,  or  the  shot ;  and  all  to  stop  or  point  simulta- 
neously at  the  word  "  Toho,"  and  at  the  sight  thereafter,  by 
each  of  the  other's  point. 

All  that  is  requisite  in  order  to  enforce  these  lessons,  is  stea- 
diness. 

The  dogs  must  now  be  broke  to  fetch,  and  this  is  the  hardest 
lesson  of  all;  but  no  dog  is  perfect  until  he  has  learned  it; 
for  it  is,  in  the  first  place,  almost  indispensable  to  making 
lai'ge  bags  in  our  wild  wooded  country,  that  dogs  should  fetch ; 
and,  secondly,  it  tends,  if  properly  done,  to  render  dogs  deli- 
berate and  steady  beyond  all  means  in  the  world. 

This,  like  the  "down-chorgc,"  must,  in  the  first  instance,  be 
taught  in  the  collar  and  cord,  and  under  the  whip. 

ObseiTO,  above  all  things  in  dog  breaking,  that  a  dog  is  never 
to  be  taught  anything  by  coaxing,  but  always  by  the  fear  of  pun- 
ishment. A  dog  Wiiich  is  taught  by  coaxing,  if  ho  tuni  sulky, 
can  never  be  controlled,  as  he  does  not  know  what  punishment 
means. 

A  dog  is  taught  to  fetch  by  charging  him,  putting  a  bal  or 
some  soft  substance  into  his  mouth,  closing  his  jiiws  on  it,  and 
replacing  it,  with  gentle  punishment,  so  often  as  he  rejects  it. 
This  learned,  he  is  forced  by  a  repetition  of  the  same  process, 
to  rise  and  carry  it  about — then  to  fetch  it  when  dropped,  or 
thrown,  till  he  is  perfect. 

Thereafter,  he  is  made  to  down-charge  first  of  all,  vd.en  it  is 
thrown,  and  not  to  attempt  to  fetch  it,  uidess  desired  to  "  fetch," 
to  drop  several  times  to  the  "  charge,"  before  reaching  the  ball, 
after  being  sent  for  it,  and,  lastly,  to  "  charge"  with  his  nose 
almost  touching  it.  The  final  lesson  of  all  is  to  deliver  it  quietly 
and  willingly. 

All  this  is  to  be  enforced  by  the  whip,  rigorously,  but  tempe- 
rately,—invariably,  but  never  angrily, — with  praise  and  caresses 
when  he  does  well,  and  reproaches  accompanying  chastisement. 

All  these  things  ho  must  be  accustomed  to  do,  until  they  have 


364 


rHANK    FORESTER  S   FIELD   SPORTS. 


become  absolutely  his  second  nature,  without  his  conceiving  to 
what  the  teaching  is  applicable.  This  accomplishctl,  when  he 
never  fails  of  obeying  these  signals  and  orders — when  he  liocomes 
thoroughly  aware  that  the  least  infringement  of  <omniands  is 
followed  by  sure  infliction  of  the  lash — when  he  jiorfomis  the 
whole  routine  of  his  little  instructions,  with  the  mechanical  stea- 
dini'ss  and  coolness  of  a  circus  horse,  take  him  out  with  the  gun 
alone,  and  you  will  iiaveno  difficulty  in  controlling  him, — he  will 
rapidly  come  to  apply  his  theory  to  practice — he  will  become 
passionately  and  devolijdly  fond  of  his  sport, — his  enthusiasm 
and  ardor  will  increase  the  more,  the  more  game  is  killed  over 
him,  while  ho  will  keep  cool  and  obedient  with  little  or  no 
trouble. 

He  will  not  associate  his  -ideas  of  punishment  with  the  game  or 
the  gun, but  tvith  the  infringement  of  the  old  teachings,  and  he  will 
in  a  very  short  time  become — what  he  never  would  be  if  taken 
out  half  broke,  and  allowed  to  contract  bad  habits,  and  to  com- 
mit faults  before  he  knows  that  they  are  faults — perfect.  In  this 
case  the  prevention  comes  before  the  commission  of  the  fault, 
and  the  eiTor  itself  is  checked  by  a  word  before  it  is  committed. 
In  another  word,  the  dog  is  not  flogged  for  flushing  his  bird,  or 
failing  to  back  his  comrade,  but  ibr  refusinir  obedience  to  the 
word  "  toho" — not  flofrfTid  for  ninnino:  in  to  bite  a  bird,  but  for 
disobeying  the  word  "  chai'ge,"  the  raised  hand,  or  the  sound 
of  the  shot. 

If  you  wait  till  the  temptation  of  eagerness  and  impetuosity 
in  the  fiild,  is  added  to  the  natural  difficulty  of  teaching,  you 
will  toil  in  vain.  No  dog  can  ever  be  made  a.  perfect  dog,  who 
ia not  jHrfecili/  brok',-  to  "  down-charge," to  "toho,"  to  "  fetch," 
and  to  obey  impUcithj,  before  a  bird  is  killed  over  him. 

This  is  the  shibboleth,  the  grand  arcanum  of  dog  breaking. 

All  the  rest  is  mere  practice  and  experience,  which  make 
perfect  both  the  teacher  and  the  taught. 

Young  dogs  should  always  be  hunted  alone,  or  wiiji  other 
young  dogs.  But  it  is  far  better  to  hunt  them  quite  alone,  until 
such  time  as  they  come  to  understand  their  work  thoroughly, 
and  to  feel  confidence  in  lhemselvp>« 


PPLAND    SHOOTING. 


r^fio 


If  hunted  witli  knowing  old  dogs,  puppies  will  soon  come  to 
depend  on  them  entirely ;  will  follow  them,  and  watcli  their 
cv(;ry  motion,  and  never  learning  to  heat  their  own  groimd,  or 
find  their  own  .game,  will  content  themselves  with  backing,  in- 
stead of  pointing,  and  will  become  timid,  and  ultimately  useless. 

Hunting  puppies,  on  the  contrary,  together,  will  tend  to  make 
them  all  wild  and  rash,  and  to  induce  their  mutually  learning 
the  faults  of  all. 

On  the  whole,  therefore,  it  is  the  better  way  to  hunt  young 
dogs  singly  during  their  first  season,  killing  as  many  birds  over 
them  as  possible  ;  and,  at  the  beginning  of  the  second  year,  re- 
membering that  brace-hunting  is  the  proper  sphere  of  Pointers, 
or  Setters,  to  introduce  them  to  mates  of  their  own  ages,  and 
thenceforth  always  to  hunt,  and,  as  much  as  you  can,  feed  the 
same  braces  together.  One  brace  of  dogs,  accustomed  so  to  live 
and  beat  together,  will  do  hotter  work  a-ficld,  than  three  dogs 
of  ecpial  (]ualities,  all  working  eacli  "  on  his  own  ho  tk." 

So  much  for  the  rules  of  dog  breaking  ! 

With  regard  to  practice  and  management  in  the  field,  there  is 
little  or  nothing  to  be  said,  beyond  what  I  have  already  laid 
Anwn,  jmsxim,  under  the  heads  of  the  various  kinds  of  Upland 
shooting. 

Dog '.  should  not  be  harassed  by  too  maiiy,  and  never  by  con- 
trari/,  in-i\crs.  No  fault  should  ever  be  passed  over  in  silence, 
and  very  few  will  bo  committed.  Punishment  should  bo  in- 
flicted as  rarely  as  possible,  but  when  it  is  inflicted,  it  should  be 
done  thoroughly  and  severely. 

Never  holloa  at  a  dog — never  run  after  a  dog,  but  cither  make 
him  come  back  to  you,  or  bide  your  time  till  he  becomes  tired 
and  returns  of  his  own  accord,  then  punish  for  the  double  event. 

When  you  enter  a  field,  or  covert,  which  you  propose  to  beat, 
bid  your  dogs  "  hold  up,"  and  waive  them  right  and  left.  Tuni 
them  by  a  whistle,  and  waive  them  hither  or  thither.  When 
they  strike  a  bevy  of  Quail,  or  other  game,  never  hurry  after 
them,  but  make  them  go  slow  by  the  word  "  steady."  Tf  they 
are  rash,  be  you  deliberate.     If  you  hurry  on,  you  best  oticom 


366 


FRANK    FORESTER  S    FIELD   SPORTS 


rage  their  hurrying.  Never  mind  if  they  ilush  one  hevy,  and 
you  lose  one  shot.  Be  steady,  and  punish,  so  that  they  will  not 
do  so  again. 

When  they  point,  flush  your  own  bird,  even  if  you  get  a  worse 
eliot  at  it  than  you  would  do  by  hieing  on  your  dog.  To  do  so 
will  make  him  heedless  and  headstrong. 

If  you  kill,  stand  still,  cry  "  down-charge,"  and  load  your 
gun.  If  the  dogs  inin  in,  don't  run  after  them,  it  will  only  make 
them  run  the  faster.  Stand  still,  and  cry  "  down,"  till  you  have 
done  loading.  Then  go  on  deliberately,  never  heed  the  dead 
bird,  which  is  probably  half  eaten  by  this  time,  but  drag  the 
offender  back  to  the  place  whence  he  started,  crying  "  down- 
charge,"  and  lashing  him  all  the  way, — then  hold  him  down,  and 
floghimmost  severely.  Make  him  lie  still,  without  stirring,  till  you 
have  brought  the  bird,  and  laid  it  close  under  his  nose.  Then 
make  him  pick  it  up,  and  give  it  you, — ^he  will  not  run  in  many 
times,  if  so  dealt  withal. 

Break  your  dogs  thus,  or  have  them  thus  broken,  and  when 
they  are  broken,  handle  them  thus  in  the  kennel,  and  in  the 
field,  and  my  word  on  it,  they  will  be,  and  continue  good  ones. 


I  am  induced,  by  some  experiments,  to  qualify  my  opinions,  as  ex- 
pressed on  page  340,  in  relation  to  the  use  of  Indian  meal  as  dog  food,  so 
far  as  to  observe  that  the  meal  must  be  old,  since,  if  new,  it  is  too  laxa- 
tive. Where  oat-meal  can  be  procured,  I  incline  to  the  belief  that  the 
mixture  of  it  with  Indian  meal,  in  equal  proportions,  will  be  found  the 
best  possible  dog  food. 


END  OP  VOLUME  ONE. 


5^,  and 

ill  not 

worse 
do  so 

your 
make 
L  have 

dead 
J  the 
lown- 
I,  and 
I  you 
rheri 
nany 

ivhen 
I  the 
ties. 


3  ex- 
>d,  so 
[axa- 
t  the 
1  the 


